i-.-Xi+j"^, 


^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  ^ 


Purchased   by  the  Hamill   Missionary   Fund. 


BV  2087  .A65  1917  j 

Applegarth,  Margaret  T.  1886 

-1976. 
Junior  missionary  stories 

I 


JUNIOR 
MISSIONARY  STORIES 

FIFTY-TWO  JUNIOR 
3IISSI0NARY  STORIES     .    -  '^  >;]-v->^ 

MAY  24  1918 


MARGARET  T.  APPLEGARTH 


BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION 

AND  BIBLE  SCHOOL  WORK 

25  E.  22nd  Street 

New  York  City 


Copyright,  1917 
BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION  AND  BIBLE  SCHOOL  WORK 


PREFACE 

In  ^^  Junior  Missionary  Stories"  Miss 
Applegarth  has  continued  the  presenta- 
tion of  missionary  fundamentals  to  chil- 
dren which  she  so  ably  commenced  in 
the  previous  series,  published  under  the 
title  ' '  Primary  Missionary  Stories. ' ' 
The  present  volume,  like  the  earlier  one, 
was  prepared  under  the  authorization 
of  the  Committee  on  Missionary  Educa- 
tion of  the  Mission  Boards  of  the  Re- 
formed Church  in  America,  and  they 
are  published  for  that  Committee  as  the 
first  two  steps  in  Graded  Missionary 
Study  material  for  use  in  the  Bible 
.School.  *^ Junior  Missionary  Stories" 
are  designed  for  children  a  little  older 
than  those  for  whom  the  Primary 
Stories  were  prepared,  but  there  is  no 
reason  why  they  should  not  be  readily 
adapted  by  the  teacher  for  the  youngest 
children  in  the  school. 


4  Preface 

The  illustrations,  and  the  material  on 
the  pages  with  them,  are  to  be  repro- 
duced on  separate  cards  or  sheets  for 
^  *  Take  Home ' '  material.  The  publishers 
of  the  book  are  prepared  to  supply 
these  ^^Take  Home  Cards"  in  such 
quantities  as  may  be  needed. 

Wm.  T.  Demarest. 


FOREWORD  TO  JUNIOR 
TEACHERS 

In  teaching  Missions  every  teacher 
wants  to  do  more  than  tell  queer  cus- 
toms of  quaint  peoples,  for  in  each 
country  she  knows  there  is  a  big  need, 
an  emptiness,  an  eternal  seeking  for 
some  elusive  Something  which  only  one 
name  can  satisfy:  The  Name  of  Jesus. 
Yet  the  needs  are  as  varied  as  the  kinds 
of  people — and  Jesus  to  the  hungry 
calls  Himself  the  ^* Bread  of  Life'';  to 
the  wayfaring  man:  the  **Way'';  to  the 
lost  sheep:  ^'The  Good  Shepherd";  to 
the  sick:  *^The  Great  Physician";  to 
those  seemingly  shut  out  from  the 
Father's  house:  ^^The  Door." 

There  is  no  side  of  life  which  these 
beautiful  names  of  Jesus  do  not  touch, 
and  for  each  month  of  the  year  it  has 
been  possible  to  find  a  name  appropri- 
ate for  the  season  as  well  as  for  the 


6         Foreword  to  Junior  Teachers 

country  with  which  it  is  to  be  associated. 
Teachers  are  asked  to  note  three  things 
in  the  lessons : 

(1)  Those  beginning  the  course  in 
any  other  month  than  January  are 
urged  to  start  in  with  the  first  of  the 
January  lessons:  ^^The  Chief  Corner- 
stone," and  progress  week  by  week,  un- 
mindful of  dates,  since  a  sequence  of 
ideas  is  to  be  developed,  which  will  be 
of  even  greater  importance  than  the 
superficial  unity  between  month  and 
title.  In  such  cases,  Easter,  Children's 
Day  and  Christmas  lessons  will  have  to 
be  rearranged  at  the  teacher's  own  dis- 
cretion. 

(2)  The  Take  Home  Cards  will  gen- 
erally form  the  basis  of  the  story  and 
should  be  given  out  before  the  lesson  is 
taught,  so  the  children  may  see,  while 
they  hear.  They  are  to  be  taken  home 
to  be  colored,  and  either  kept  in  a 
manila  envelope  at  home  or  brought 
back  to  the  school  the  following  Sun- 
day, and  kept  there.  In  either  case  a 
Roll  of  Honor  should  be  kept  of  those 


Foreword  to  Junior  Teachers        7 

whose  file  of  cards  is  complete.  The 
indirect  influence  of  coloring  the  cards 
at  home,  arises  from  the  fact  that  the 
card  will  be  proudly  displayed  to  a 
family  with  a  leisurely  Sunday  after- 
noon at  its  disposal^  even  the  story  may 
be  repeated  from  memory — and,  ''a 
little  child  shall  lead  them!"  Teachers 
should  provide  12  large  uniform-sized 
sheets  of  heavy  colored  cardboard,  one 
sheet  for  each  month,  on  which  one  set 
of  the  white  cards  for  each  month  are 
to  be  mounted,  the  name  of  Jesus  for 
the  month  to  be  printed  in  large  black 
letters  across  the  top  of  the  page.  If 
these  larger  sheets  are  hung  around  the 
room  before  school-time  the  children 
will  enjoy  conducting  an  entirely  un- 
directed and  spontaneous  review:  ^^Oh, 
I  remember  about  that  picture — look, 
Mary,''  ^^Oh,  yes,  but  I  loved  this  one 
loads  better!"  etc.,  etc. 

(3)  The  little  stories  are  written  not 
only  to  tell  facts,  but  to  create  an  atti- 
tude of  mind  towards  missionary  work 
around  the  world,  which  shall  be  un- 


8         Foreword  to  Junior  Teachers 

consciously  retained  long  after  the  de- 
tails of  the  stories  themselves  are  for- 
gotten. For  this  reason  the  disastrous 
words  ^^Home''  and  ^^ Foreign''  have 
been  carefully  omitted,  so  that  we  may 
raise  a  new  generation  with  whom 
God's  Kingdom  shall  be  07ie  vast  enter- 
prise, instead  of  two! 

(4)  During  Junior  years  comes  the 
period  when  church  hymns  are  to  be 
memorized,  according  to  the  most  ap- 
proved pedagogical  curricula.  Hymns 
appropriate  to  the  names  of  Jesus  are 
herewith  suggested  for  each  month,  to 
be  sung  preferably  after  the  missionary 
story,  as  they  will  supplement  the 
thought : 

January  (Chief  Cornerstone) — "The  Church's  One 
Foundation"  or  "How  Firm  a  Founda- 
tion." 

February  (The  Door) — "While  Thee  I  Seek,  Protecting 
Power."  (This  is  splendid  if  you  make  it 
clear,  all  the  verses  are  so  appropriate, 
especially  last  verse). 

March  (The  Good  Shepherd) — Saviour  Like  a  Shep- 

herd Lead  Us." 

April  (The   Lily   of   the    FaZZe?/)—"  Fairest    Lord 

Jesus." 

May  (The  Way)—"0  Master  Let  Me  Walk  with 

Thee!"  or  "He  Leadeth  me." 


Foreword  to  Junior  Teachers 


June 

July 

August 

September 

October 

November 

December 


{Rose  of  Sharon)— ''Ye  Christian  Heralds 
go  Proclaim!"  (Especially  use  of  words 
"Rose  of  Sharon"  in  second  verse). 

{Friend  of  Little  Children)— "There's  a 
Friend  for  Little  Children." 

{The  Water  of  Life)—"1  Heard  the  Voice  of 
Jesus  Say." 

{The  Great  Physician)— " At  Even  Ere  the 
Sun  Was  Set." 

{The  Vine).—"  I  Have  a  Friend,  Oh  Such  a 
Friend." 

{Light  of  the  TForW)— "Lead  Kindly  Light," 
or  "The  Light  of  the  World  is  Jesus." 


{The  Prince  of  Peace)- 
Where'er  the  Sun.' 


Jesus  Shall  Reign 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

THE  CORNERSTONE  (Introductory  Lessons) 

PAGE 

First  Story.     "The  Story  of  a  Name. " 15 

Second  Story.     "How  We  Learned  about  It." 22 

Third  Story.     "The  Little  House  You  Live  In.". . .  31 

Fourth  Story.     "Scaffolding. " 38 


THE  DOOR  (China) 

Fifth  Story.    "Won't  You  Come  into  My  Parlor?"    45 

Sixth  Story.     "Children  in  Blue  and  W^hat  They 

Do!" 54 

Seventh  Story.  "Over  the  Hills  and  Far  Away,  In  a 
Chinese  Chair  that  Can  Travel  all 
Day." 62 

Eighth  Story.     "A  Happy  New  Year." 71 


THE   GOOD    SHEPHERD    (Negroes   in    America 
and  Africa) 

Ninth  Story.     "Baa!  Baa!  Black  Sheep!" 79 

Tenth  Story.     "The  Boy  Who  Swept  the  Corners 

Clean." 86 

Eleventh  Story.     "The  Smoke  of  a  Thousand  Vil- 
lages."      93 

Twelfth  Story.     "A  True  Lion  Story." 100 

Thirteenth  Story.     "A  Giant  Question  Mark  and 

a  Giant  Ear." 107 

II 


12  Table  of  Contents 

THE  LILY  OF  THE  VALLEY   (Mountaineers  of 
Kentucky) 

PAGE 

Fourteenth  Story.     "Jack  and  Jill  Went  up  the 

Hill." 115 

Fifteenth  Story.     "When  Patches  are  Beautiful.".   122 

Sixteenth  Story.     "This  is  the  House  that  Jack 

Built." 129 

Seventeenth  Story.     "Jack  the  Giant-Killer." . . .   136 

THE  WAY'  (Immigrants) 

Eighteenth  Story.     "The   People  from  Over  the 

Ocean." 142 

Nineteenth  Story.     "The  House  with  too  Many 

People." 149 

Twentieth  Story.     "Who  Could  It  Be?" 157 

Twenty-first  Story.     "A    Cherry    Blossom    that 

Bloomed  in  New  Y'ork.".  165 

THE  ROSE  OF  SHARON.     (Japan) 

Twenty-second  Story.     "Some   Japanese   Flowers 

that  Can  Talk." 172 

Twenty-third  Story.     "Leaving  Out  the  Best  Part 

of  Children's  Day.".  .  .    179 

Twenty-fourth  Story.     "Three  Little  Sisters  and 

What  They  Learned."  185 

Twenty-fifth  Story.     "The  Idol  Who  Could  Not 

Help  Himself." 191 

Twenty-sixth  Story.     "  The  Four  R's." 199 


FRIEND  OF  LITTLE  CHILDREN  (Immigrants 
Continued) 

Twenty-seventh  Story. — "The  Forgetmenot  Fam- 
ily."   205 

Twenty-eighth  Story.    "Tin     Cans     and     Other 

Cans." 213 


Table  of  Contents  13 

Twenty-ninth  Story.     "Who  Warms  Your  House 

in  Winter?" 220 

Thirtieth  Story.     "Wanted!    New  Eyes!" 229 

THE     WATER  OF  LIFE  (Arabia) 
Thirty-first  Story.    "  The  Woman  at  the  Well.".  237 

Thirty-second  Story.     "  Five  Times  a  Day." 247 

Thirty-third  Story.     "  Seven  Loaves  of  Bread."..  254 
Thirty-fourth  Story.     "A  Caravan  in  the  Desert. .  261 

THE  GREAT  PHYSICIAN  (Medical  Missions) 

Thirty-fifth  Story.     "Pains  and  Pills,  and  a  Cure 

that  Kills!" 268 

Thirty-sixth  Story.     "The  Story  of  Two  Hands.".  275 
Thirty-seventh  Story.     "The  Gospel  According  to 

the  Telephone  Book."  283 
Thirty-eighth  Story.     "Three     Knocks     in     the 

Night." 292 

Thirty-ninth  Story.     "What  One  Little  Girl  Be- 
came."   300 

THE  VINE.     (India) 
Fortieth  Story.     "Here  Comes  the  Bride!" 308 

Forty-first  Story.  "The  Little  Girl  Whom  No- 
body Loved." 316 

Forty-second  Story.     "The  Little  Girl  Who  Found 

Someone  to  Love  Her."  323 

Forty-third  Story.     "Turning    Their    Backs    on 

Each  Other." 330 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD  (American  Indians) 

Forty-fourth  Story.     "The  People  Who  Walked 

in  Darkness." 338 

Forty-fifth  Story.     "The  Indian  Sun  Dance.''   .~  345 


14  Table  of  Contents 


PAGE 


Forty-sixth  Story.     "The  Sun  of  Righteousness.".  351 

Forty-seventh  Story.     "How    the     Indians    Say 

'Thank  You!"' 358 


THE  PRINCE  OF  PEACE  (Missionaries  as  Heroes) 

Forty-eighth  Story.     "The  Soldiers  of  Peace.".  .  .  364 

Forty-ninth  Story.     "From       Greenland's       Icy 

Mountains." 373 

Fiftieth  Story.     "Desert    Islands    and    Other   Is- 
lands."   380 

Fifty-first  Story.    "  The  First  Christmas  Present."  388 

Fifty-second  Story.     "The  Greatest  Thing  in  the 

World." 397 


FIRST  STORY 

Jesus  is:   "The  Corner  Stone" 

THE  STOEY  OF  A  NAME 


The  Angel  said :  "Thon  shalt  call  His  name  Jesus, 
for  He  shall  save  His  people  from  their  sins." 

1.  What  can  you  tell  me  al)out  the  Year  One,  and 
the  wonderful  name  of  a  Wonderful  Son? 

Ans 

2.  What  did  the  angel  to  Mary  say  about  the  Son 
to  be  hers  some  day? 

Ans 

3.  Why  was  there  never  a  Christmas  Day  till  after 
that   Son  in   a  manger  lay? 

Ans 

4.  What  other  names  can  you  think  of  just  now 
at  mention  of  which  every  knee  shall  bow? 

Ans 

IS 


FIRST  STOKY 

"THE  STORY  OF  A  NAME" 

(Note:  Opening  paragraphs  adapted  from  "When 
the  King  Came,"  by  Hodges.) 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  Year 
One.  Strangely  enough,  it  was  not  the 
beginning  of  the  years,  for  the  world 
was  already  very  old;  nobody  knows 
how  old.  People  had  been  living  on  the 
earth,  time  out  of  mind,  in  mighty  na- 
tions, fighting  great  battles  and  build- 
ing great  cities.  But  someliotv,  every- 
thing seemed  to  begin  over  again  that 
year,  because  that  w^as  when  the  Boy- 
with-the-W'Onderful-name  was  born. 
When  we  say  that  this  present  year  is 
1918,  we  mean  that  the  year  one  was 
just  that  many  years  ago. 

It  is  always  to  be  remembered  about 
that  year  One  that  one  of  its  days  w^as 
Christmas  Day.  The  truth  is  that  there 
never  had  been  a  Christmas  Day  until 
the  Year  One. 

i6 


The  Story  of  a  Name  17 

Year  after  year  and  year  after  year 
the  evergreen  trees  grew  out  in  the 
woods, — but  nobody  came  to  get  them. 
Nobody  thought  of  lighting  them  up 
with  candles  or  of  loading  them  down 
with  candies.  The  holly  showed  its  ber- 
ries of  red  and  the  mistletoe  its  berries 
of  white,  and  nobody  paid  any  attention 
to  them.  The  twenty-fifth  day  of  De- 
cember came  and  went,  like  the  twenty- 
second  and  the  twenty-ninth,  and  boys 
and  girls  were  born,  and  grew  up  into 
men  and  women  with  never  a  Christmas 
carol,  nor  a  Christmas  tree,  nor  a  Christ- 
mas gift,  and  without  having  so  much 
as  heard  of  the  singing  angels,  or  of  the 
Holy  child:  because  tliat  was  before 
the  Boy-with-the-wonderful-name  was 
born. 

Now  in  the  Year  One  there  lived  in 
a  quiet  little  village,  hidden  among  the 
hills  of  Syria,  a  young  girl  named  Mary. 
We  do  not  know  how  old  she  was,  but 
we  do  know  she  was  very  good  and 
gentle,  with  a  fair  sweet  soul.  One  day 
Mary  was  sitting  alone  in  her  room.  She 


i8  First  Story 

may  have  been  sewing,  for  she  was  soon 
to  marry  one  of  her  neighbors,  Joseph, 
the  village  carpenter,  and  she  would 
need  to  get  ready  for  the  wedding.  It 
was  a  spring  morning,  and  the  flowers 
were  in  bloom,  birds  were  singing,  and 
the  sun  was  shining.  I  wouldn't  be  at 
all  surprised  if  as  she  sat  and  sewed  she 
thought  about  the  dear  stories  she 
had  always  heard — stories  of  the  past 
glories  of  her  people,  stories  telling  of 
an  even  better  time  to  come  when  a  Boy- 
with-a-wonderful-name  should  come  to 
deliver  these  people.  I  dare  say  she 
whispered  to  herself  the  very  words  she 
had  heard  so  often:  ''And  his  name 
shall  be  called  Wonderful,  Counsellor, 
The  Mighty  God,  The  Everlasting  Fa- 
ther, The  Prince  of  Peace." 

As  she  sat  and  thought,  suddenly  a 
gleam  of  splendor  shone  around  her, 
like  sunlight  bursting  through  gray 
clouds.  Mary  turned  to  see  what  this 
new  brightness  could  be,  and  there  be- 
side her  stood  a  beautiful  angel,  who 
said  to  her:  ''Fear  not,  Mary,  for  thou 


The  Story  of  a  Name  19 

hast  found  favor  with  God."  Then 
while  she  listened,  almost  holding  her 
breath  at  the  wonder  of  it,  he  told  her 
his  errand:  That  the  time  had  come 
when  God  would  do  what  He  had  long 
promised  to  do — He  would  send  this 
Child-  with  -  the  -  wonderful  -  name,  and 
Mary  would  be  His  mother.  ' '  And  thou 
shalt  call  His  name  Jesus,  for  He  shall 
save  His  people  from  their  sins." 

Months  passed  after  this  angelic  visit. 
The  spring  deepened  into  the  green  of 
summer;  lilies  grew  in  the  fields  and 
fruits  ripened  and  were  gathered  into 
barns,  and  the  long  cold  nights  came  on. 
And  one  cold  night,  while  shepherds 
were  watching  their  flocks  near  by, 
the  Boy-with-the-wonderful-name  was 
born!  As  you  well  know,  that  was  the 
first  Christmas  Day,  and  the  beginning 
of  the  Year  One, — and  the  world  has 
never  been  quite  the  same  since! 

We  all  love  the  story  of  that  Boy, 
don't  we?  Of  the  stable  and  the  man- 
ger, of  the  shepherds'  and  the  angels' 
song,  of  the  wise  men  and  their  gifts,  and 


20  First  Story 

we  love  the  stories  of  the  things  He  did 
when  He  grew  older:  How  He  healed 
the  sick,  and  blessed  little  children,  and 
made  everyone  happy.  I  think  He  lived 
out  his  wonderful  name,  ^^ Jesus,''  for 
when  Jesus  talked  to  people  with  thirsty 
souls.  He  said :  '^I  am  the  Water  of  Life, 
you  need  not  thirst  any  more  if  you  love 
me;''  or  to  hungry  souls:  *^I  am  the 
Bread  of  Life,  you  need  never  be  hun- 
gry again;"  or  to  people  who  had  lost 
their  way:  '^I  am  the  Way;"  to  those 
who  felt  shut  out  from  God:  ^^I  am  the 
Door;"  to  those  who  were  sick:  ^^I  am 
the  Great  Physician."  Whatever  peo- 
ple needed  most,  Jesus  could  give  them 
and  wherever  people  have  learned  about 
Him  they  have  said:  ^^Oh,  I  love  Him! 
He  is  just  What  I  need!" 

So  little  by  little  in  all  these  long 
years  since  He  lived  here  among  men, 
people  have  been  telling  other  people, 
and  the  story  of  His  Name  has  spread 
slowly  all  over  the  world.  Some  day 
this  verse  in  the  Bible  will  come  true, 
which  I  want  you  to  read  with  me  from 


The  Story  of  the  Name  21 

your  Take-Home  cards:  "Wherefore 
God  hath  highly  exalted  Him,  and  given 
Him  a  name  above  every  name,  that  at 
the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should 
bow  .  .  .  and  every  tongue  confess 
that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord.'' 

Every  month  this  year  we  are  going 
to  take  up  a  new  name  of  Jesus,  and 
visit  different  people  all  around  the 
world,  who  seem  to  need  just  that  very 
name  in  their  lives.  This  month  we 
have  a  splendid  name:  "The  Chief 
Cornerstone."  If  you  will  remember 
it  until  next  Sunday,  I  will  tell  you  a 
story  about  it. 


SECOND  STORY 

Jesus  is:  '*Tlie  Corner  Stone" 

HOW  WE  LEARNED   ABOUT  IT 


1.  Follow  the  numbers  and  write  down  the  places 
where  Christianity  left  its  first  traces? 


Ans.    (1) (2).... 

(4) (5) (6) 


(3).. 

.    (7) 


2.  What    wild    kinds    of    people    in    England    and 
France,  in  those  early  days,  began  to  advance? 


Ans. 


3.  Would  English  and  French  as  savages  ceased 
if  Christ's  friends  had  carried  the  gospel  east,  (as 
far  as  India  and  China,  at  least)? 


Ans. 


4.  Shouldn't  we  willingly  give  of  our  best  since  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  was  first  carried  west,  (and  America, 
England  and  France  were  blest)? 


Ans. 


22 


SECOND  STORY 

^^HOW  WE  LEARNED  ABOUT  IT" 

Ix  the  wonderful  days  when  Jesus 
was  here  among  men,  He  called  His 
twelve  friends  together  one  day  to  tell 
them  He  was  soon  going  back  to  heaven, 
and  He  taught  them  two  words:  The 
first  word  was  ''Go"  and  the  second 
word  was  ''Teach,''  This  was  the  way 
He  said  it  to  them:  "Go  ye  into  all  the 
world  and  teacli  the  gospel  to  the  na- 
tions, and  I  will  always  be  with  you.'' 

So  they  began  going  to  the  cities  near 
them,  to  teach  the  people  about  Jesus, 
but  somehow  they  never  got  so  very  far 
from  home  because  they  thought  Jesus 
meant  them  to  tell  only  people  who  were 
Jews,  like  themselves.  But  perhaps  you 
remember  Jesus  had  especially  said, 
^^Go  into  all  the  world.''  So  although 
by  this  time  He  was  in  heaven.  He 
could  see  perfectly  well  what  was  in 
23 


24  Second  Story 

their  hearts, — He  knew  that  they  sim- 
ply hated  anybody  who  was  not  a  Jew, 
they  even  called  them  *^Dogs."  So  He 
had  to  tell  them  by  dreams  and  visions 
that  He  meant  everybody  every tvliere 
in  every  land;  so  then  one  of  His  friends 
named  Peter  and  another  one  named 
Paul  began  long  travels  far  away  from 
home  spreading  the  story  of  Jesus' 
name.  Little  churches  were  built  so 
these  new  believers  could  have  places  to 
worship  in,  and  they  were  such  differ- 
ent people  after  they  accepted  Jesus 
that  they  were  nicknamed  ''Christians'' 
— ''Jesus  Christ's  Men."  Mcknames 
are  said  unkindly,  but  they  liked  theirs 
so  much  that  even  down  to  to-day  it 
is  a  nickname  millions  and  millions  of 
people  are  proud  to  bear,  all  over  the 
world. 

After  these  first  friends  of  Jesus  had 
carried  the  story  into  Syria  and  Asia 
Minor  and  Greece  they  became  old  men, 
some  of  them,  so  old  that  they  died,  and 
some  of  them  were  killed  for  teaching 
about   Jesus.     We   call   these    friends 


How  We  Learned  About  It         25 

*^ martyrs/'  because  they  were  willing 
to  die  for  Jesus,  they  cared  so  much  for 
Him.  But  there  were  other  people  will- 
ing to  take  their  places,  and  keep  on 
spreading  the  good  news.  Then  it  was 
carried  into  Italy,  and  from  Italy  up 
into  France.  We  know  a  good  deal 
about  French  people  since  the  war, 
don't  we?  So  it  seems  queer  to  remem- 
ber that  once  these  fine  brave  men  and 
women  of  France  had  great-great-great 
grandfathers  who  were  the  wildest  kind 
of  savages  you  can  imagine.  They  had 
no  cities  or  towns,  no  houses,  no  schools, 
no  churches,  no  books — they  just  wan- 
dered all  over  the  country  killing  wild 
animals  and  killing  their  enemies,  too. 
But  the  missionaries  from  Italy  told 
these  wandering  savages  about  Jesus, 
they  taught  them  to  read  and  to  pray, 
until  they  grew  milder  and  kinder  and 
built  villages  and  towns  and  cities. 
Then  they  went  over  the  sea  to  England, 
and  the  people  there  were  even  worse 
savages !  That  seems  funny  to  you  and 
me,  for  i^robably  our  very  own  great- 


26  Second  Story 

great-great-great-grandfathers  lived  in 
England,  and  went  around  with  big 
clubs  hitting  down  their  enemies  and 
stealing  and  being  the  w^orst  kind  of 
heathen!  But  everybody  knows  now 
that  it  is  a  fine  thing  to  be  an  English- 
man to-day — there 's  only  one  thing  finer, 
and  that  is  to  be  an  American!  But 
neither  Frenchmen,  nor  Dutclmien,  nor 
Englishmen,  nor  Americans  would  be 
civilized  to-day,  or  know  how  to  read 
and  write  if  those  first  friends  of  Jesus 
had  not  happened  to  travel  tvestward  in 
their  journeys  from  Palestine  to  Greece, 
from  Greece  to  Italy,  and  from  Italy  to 
France,  from  France  to  England,  and 
from  England  to  America.  How  funny 
it  would  be  for  you  and  me  if  they  had 
traveled  eastward  instead — from  Pales- 
tine to  Arabia,  from  Arabia  to  India, 
from  India  to  China,  from  China  to 
Japan!  Then  the  people  to  whom  we 
now  send  missionaries  would  have  to 
send  missionaries  to  us^  for  we  might 
be  the  most  dreadful  little  heathen  our- 
selves.    Not   one   of  you  girls  would 


How  We  Learned  About  It         27 

know  how  to  read  a  single  word,  and,  of 
course,  you  couldn't  write,  or  count  or 
spell,  or  play  on  the  piano,  because  in 
heathen  lands  fathers  and  mothers  do 
not  care  for  girls  as  much  as  for  boys. 
It  would  be  rather  horrid,  wouldn't  it? 
I  can't  picture  our  town  as  a  heathen 
town — no  churches  or  Sunday  schools, 
of  course;  no  public  schools;  no  libra- 
ries; no  drug-stores;  no  hospitals;  no 
orphan  asylum;  no  old  ladies'  home;  no 
doctors;  no  nurses;  no  street  cars;  no 
telephones;  no  second  story  to  our 
houses — for  isn't  it  queer?  only  in 
Christian  lands  do  homes  have  two 
floors!  And  there  are  no  old  maids  in 
heathen  lands,  either, — which  is  a  pity, 
since  it  really  needs  old  maids  to  help 
make  cities  and  towns  and  schools  run 
smoothly!  So  aren't  you  glad  Some- 
hold  Told  Our  Great  -  Great  -  Grand- 
fathers'^   I  am! 

But  I  rather  hate  to  think  of  all  the 
people  who  haven't  been  told  yet, — 
black  people  in  Africa,  brown  people  in 
India   and   Arabia,   yellow   people   in 


28  Second  Story 

China,  white  people  everywhere.  There 
is  something  in  all  their  hearts  that 
makes  them  want  to  fold  their  hands 
and  say  prayers, — only  because  they 
never  heard  of  Jesus,  they  have  made 
foolish  little  idols  carved  out  of  wood, 
and  stone,  to  worship!  The  people  in 
our  church  are  so  sorry  to  have  them  do 
such  useless  worship,  that  we  have  al- 
ways had  missionaries  of  our  very  owti 
all  around  the  world.  I  am  going  to 
tell  you  stories  about  them  all  this  year ; 
and  now  before  I  close  I  have  one  little 
American  story  about  a  boy  called  Jim- 
mie. 

Jimmie's  mother  gave  him  a  list  of 
things  she  wanted  him  to  get  at  the 
grocery  store.  When  he  got  there  the 
grocery  man  wrapped  up  the  things, 
Jimmie  tucked  them  under  his  arm  and 
was  walking  out  of  the  store,  when  the 
groceryman  said:  '^Well,  sonny,  hy  the 
way — how  about  paying  me  back  for  all 
those  things^'' 

You  ought  to  have  seen  Jimmie 
jump!  ^^Oh!  I  com-completely  for-for- 


How  We  Learned  About  It         29 

got  about  t-teiling  you!''  he  stammered, 
^'You're  to  charge  everything  to  f -fa- 
ther!'' 

So  the  grocery  man  took  his  pencil 
from  behind  his  ear  and  his  notebook 
from  his  pocket,  saying:  *'And  who  is 
your  father?" 

Jimmie  nearly  dropped  all  the  pack- 
ages: ^^Why,  don't  you  know  my  fa- 
ther?" he  gasped. 

The  grocery  man  said:  ^'No!  never 
heard  of  him!  Who  is  he,  anyhow?" 

But  Jimmie  wasn't  over  being  sur- 
prised yet:  ^^Why  I  supposed  every- 
body knew  my  father!"  he  said.  *^I'm 
so  sorry  you  don't — you  see,  mister,  I 
know  him — just  as  easy!" 

I  love  that  little  story,  and  every  time 
I  see  boys  and  girls  sitting  in  Sunday- 
school  the  way  you  are,  with  plenty  of 
Bibles  and  hyimi  books  everywhere,  I 
begin  making  all  sorts  of  little  pictures 
in  my  mind.  I  pretend  I  see  little  red 
children,  and  bhick  children,  and  brown 
children,  and  yellow  children  walking 
right  into  our  Sunday-school  room,  and 


30  Second  Story 

when  they  hear  us  singing  out  of  our 
hymn  books,  and  reading  out  of  our 
Bibles,  and  praying  ^^Our  Father  who 
art  in  heaven,''  then  I  know  I  can  hear 
surprised  little  voices  asking,  ^^Why, 
who  is  your  father  in  heaven,  anyway?" 
And  I  always  hear  you  answering: 
^^Why,  don't  you  know  our  Father? 
I'm  so  sorry.  I  thought  everybody 
knew  Him.  You  see,  I  know  Him — 
just  as  easy!'' 

But  all  the  red  and  black  and  brown 
and  yellow  children  sadly  shake  their 
heads,  and  then  like  Jimmie  I  hear  you 
stammering:  ^^Oh,  I'm  so  sorry,  but  I 
com-completely  for-forgot  about  t-tell- 
ing  you!"  And  of  course  it  isn't  fair 
for  us  to  walk  off  happily  with  all  the 
good  things  in  life  tucked  under  our 
arms,  is  it  I 


THIRD  STORY 

Jesus  is:  "The  Corner  Stone" 

THE  LITTLE  HOUSE  YOU  LIVE 
IN 


1.  The  House  you  live  in  is  your  "Head" — Please 
name  the  rooms  of  which  I  read : 


Ans.   (1) (2) 


(3) 


(4) 


2.  Which    room    is    stuffed   brimful   of   things    and 
every  new  day  some  new  treasure  brings? 


Ans. 


3.  But  since  no  house  can  stand  alone  who  is  your 
own  firm   Cornerstone? 


Ans. 


31 


THIRD   STORY 

^^THE  LITTLE  HOUSE  YOU  LIVE 

IN'' 

When  I  look  at  you  to-day  I  see  a 
regular  little  city  of  white  houses — big 
houses  and  smaller  ones  that  stand  on 
two  streets :  Boy  Street  and  Girl  Street. 
For  although  you  don't  know  it,  each  of 
you  is  a  little  house,  yourself ! 

Of  course,  the  two  windows  are  your 
eyes.  All  day  long  the  eye-windows  of 
your  little  house-of-self  are  open  wide, 
so  that  you,  who  are  sitting  behind 
them,  can  see  everything  that  passes  by. 
At  night  you  pull  down  the  shades,  and 
close  the  blinds,  w^hile  you  sleep.  The 
front  door  is  your  mouth,  only  there  is 
no  doorbell  nor  a  key,  so  you  just  run 
in  and  out  all  day  long.  Sometimes  you 
slam  it,  and  sometimes  you  open  it  when 
you  ought  not  to ! 

32 


The  Little  House  You  Live  In      33 

Every  single  child  in  the  whole  world 
is  a  little  house  on  Boy  Street  or  Girl 
Street,  and  the  pity  of  it  is  that  they 
don't  know  how  to  furnish  their  houses 
better.  It  doesn't  cost  money,  but  it 
does  cost  patience.  Let  me  tell  you 
about  the  rooms  you  have  inside  you ! 

There  is  the  parlor!  Whenever  you 
are  talking  to  anybody  or  playing  with 
anybody  you  are  using  the  parlor  of 
your  little  house-of-self .  It  is  then  that 
you  show  what  your  real  manners  are, 
don't  you'? 

Then  there  is  the  dining-room  in  the 
little  house-of-self  you  live  in.  It  is 
where  you  feed  yourself,  when  you  de- 
cide what  you  want  to  do  all  day  long 
to  fill  up  the  time.  Some  of  us  who  like 
only  candy  and  dessert  in  our  really- 
truly  dining-rooms,  at  home,  are  a  lot 
that  same  way  in  our  little  houses-of- 
self:  four  slices  of  fun,  please;  six 
glasses  of  good  times;  one  teaspoonful 
of  work;  and  a  tiny  pinch  of  helpful- 
ness! But  we  don't  grow  up  strong 
that  way;  oh  dear  no! — no  muscles,  no 


34^  Third  Story 

snap   to   us — just   roly-poly   good-for- 
nothings  ! 

There  is  also  a  hed-room  in  our  little 
houses-of-self,  where  we  dream  and 
dream  and  dream  of  the  things  we 
are  going  to  be  when  we  grow  up! 
Such  fine  wonderful  men  and  women 
as  we  do  plan  to  be;  but  do  you 
know?  It  won't  do  us  much  good 
to  dream  such  nice  dreams  unless  we 
have  a  little  attic  storeroom  in  our 
houses-of-self.  All  sorts  of  things  are 
to  be  stored  in  these  memory-attics: 
things  youVe  learned  in  school  and 
can't  forget;  like  how  to  add  and  sub- 
tract; how  to  spell;  poems;  songs; 
stories ;  geography  lessons ;  Bible  verses. 
I  like  to  pretend  that  we  have  tele- 
phones in  our  little  houses-of-self,  our 
ears^  of  course,  and  every  time  someone 
tells  us  something  splendid,  hurry  up 
and  store  it  away  in  your  memory-attic ! 
Or  perhaps  your  eye-windows  have  seen 
sometliing  wonderful, — store  that  away, 
too!  Let's  suppose  you  have  one  old 
chest  up  in  your  memory-attic  labelled, 


The  Little  House  You  Live  In     35 

^^ Geography  Box."  Inside  of  it  are  all 
the  things  you've  ever  learned  anywhere 
about  the  ivorld — that  God  made  it, 
that  He  made  it  very  beautiful,  that 
He  made  it  safe  for  everybody,  that  He 
packed  it  full  of  all  the  things  we  can 
possibly  need  to  feed  us,  or  keep  us 
warm  or  give  us  homes  and  clothing. 
Then  we  have  a  Bible  verse  packed  in 
the  geography-box  too, — for  whenever 
we  remember  the  world,  we  say  to  our- 
selves: ^^God  so  loved  the  world,  that 
He  gave  His  Son."  I  wonder  if  you 
realize  how  perfectly  wonderful  it  is  to 
have  just  those  few  facts  about  the 
world  stored  away  in  your  memory- 
attic? 

There  are  millions  of  heathen  boys  on 
Boy  Street  and  millions  of  heathen  girls 
on  Girl  Street  who  haven't  a  single  one 
of  those  things  stored  away  in  their 
memory-attics.  When  their  window- 
eyes  look  out  and  see  God's  world  they 
see  only  things  to  be  afraid  of, — trees 
that  have  rustling  leaves  are  full  of 
hobgoblins  to  hurt  children ;  little  waves 


36  Third  Story 

that  dance  in  the  wind,  seem  like  angry 
demons  to  the  children  whose  eyes  see 
only  fear  everywhere, — all  because  no 
one  ever  ga^e  them  anything  comfort- 
able or  true  to  store  away  in  their  mem- 
ory-attics. 

The  only  reason  why  you  and  I  have 
something  comfortable  and  pleasant 
stored  away  is  because  our  little  houses- 
of-self  are  built  on  Jesus,  one  of  whose 
names  is  the  cornerstone.  He  is  a  big 
firm  rock,  and  stone  by  stone  our  mo- 
thers and  our  Sunday-school  teachers 
have  helped  to  build  us  up  and  to  store 
away  things  about  Jesus  in  our  mem- 
ory-attics until  here  we  are,  nice  com- 
fortable happy  little  houses,  built  on 
a  rock!  Storms  can't  hurt  us,  one 
bit!  Let  them  blow — we  remember  the 
strong  cornerstone  under  us:  Jesus 
Christ. 

But  those  other  children,  the  little 
heathen  houses-of-self,  on  Boy  Street 
and  Girl  Street,  are  like  houses  built 
on  sand,  for  fear  is  a  great  deal  like 
sand,  isn't  it?     When  the  big  storms 


The  Little  House  You  Live  in         37 

blow  the  sand  drifts  and  drifts  and  the 
little  house  falls  over.  It  seems  to  me 
it  is  only  neighborly  for  our  little 
houses-of-self  Avhich  are  built  so  com- 
fortably on  Jesus,  the  cornerstone, 
to  help  the  other  little  tumble- down 
houses-of-self,  built  on  the  sands  of 
fear,  their  only  hope  in  foolish  idols. 

The  Bible  tells  us  this  very  same 
thing  about  the  little  houses-of-self  you 
live  in,  only  it  says  it  this  way:  ^^Ye 
are  God's  building  ....  and  what 
agreement  hath  the  temple  of  God  with 
idols?  For  ye  are  the  temple  of  the 
living  God  .  .  .  now^  therefore  ye 
are  no  more  strangers  and  foreigners, 
but  fellows-citizens  .  .  .  and  are  built 
upon  the  foundation  of  the  ajDostles 
and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ  himself  be- 
ing the  chief  cornerstone  ...  in 
whom  the  whole  building  .  .  .  grow- 
etli  into  an  holy  temple.'' 


FOURTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:   "The  Corner  Stone" 

SCAFFOLDING 


1.  Who  are  the  builders  who  help  you  and  me  to 
grow  up  the  way  that  we  all  ought  to  be? 


Ans. 


2.  Who   are  the  builders  in   far  away  lands  who 
mould  heathen  children  with  such  loving  hands? 


Ans. 


3.  Mention  four  countries  you  think  of  right  now 
where  heathen  to  idols  in  worship  do  bow. 


Ans.   (1) 


(2) 


(3) 


(4) 


4.  Mention  three  things  our  church  ought  to  do  to 
help  heathen  lands,  according  to  you? 


Ans.    (1). 


(2). 
38 


(3) 


FOURTH  STORY 

^^SCAFFOLDING'' 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  about  the 
Little  House-of-Self  you  each  live  in, 
with  its  Eye- Windows,  its  Telephone 
Ears,  its  Mouth  Door,  its  Company 
Parlor,  its  Dream  Bedroom,  and  its 
Memory  Attic.  I  told  you  that  the 
Bible  calls  this  Little  House-of-Self  '^A 
Temple  of  God'' — I  wonder  if  you  re- 
member who  was  the  cornerstone  on 
whom  each  temple  rests — firmly  and 
solidly'? — Yes!  Jesus  Christ! 

I  told  you,  too,  that  although  all  the 
children  in  the  world  lived  on  either 
Boy  Street  or  Girl  Street  with  you  and 
me,  still  some  of  them  are  not  built  on 
Jesus,  the  cornerstone,  and  they  have 
no  stories  of  Jesus  stored  away  in  their 
memory-attics,  because  no  one  ever  has 
told  them  about  Him,  of  course.    God 

39 


40  Fourth  Story 

wants  each  one  of  us  to  grow  up  right, 
and  these  other  children  get  started 
wrong,  and  so  have  to  keep  on  wrong 
all  the  time. 

How  many  of  you  have  ever  seen  a 
house  being  built  ?  Tell  me — what  is  the 
first  thing  the  builders  do  ?  Put  on  the 
roof?  No,  of  course  not!  They  begin 
down  on  the  ground,  with  a  corner- 
stone, then  stone  by  stone  they  lay 
the  foundation,  even  and  straight  and 
strong.  They  have  funny  blue  sheets 
of  paper  called  blue-prints  to  go  by. 
By  and  by  after  the  walls  get  too  high 
for  the  builders  to  reach  up  to  put  on 
more  rows  of  stones,  then  they  build  a 
queer  wooden  framework  all  around 
the  house.  It  has  a  queer  name — scaf- 
folding, although  I  am  sure  you  know 
it,  don't  you?  The  builders  stand  on 
this  scaffolding  to  lay  on  their  stones, 
until  by  and  by  they  make  a  still  higher 
row  of  scaffolding  to  reach  the  very  tip- 
top of  the  roof. 

In  building  your  little  house-of-self, 
your  Temple,  there  was  scaffolding  all 


Scaffolding  41 

around  you,  so  different  kinds  of  build- 
ers could  help  you  grow. 

School  was  one  row  of  scaffolding, 
where  the  arithmetic  teacher  and  the 
spelling  teacher  and  the  geography 
teacher  laid  on  row  after  row  of  little 
solid  facts  to  help  you  grow  straight. 
Sunday  School  was  another  row  of  scaf- 
folding, a  little  higher  up,  where  the 
teacher  laid  on  a  h}Tiin  there,  a  Bible 
verse  there,  a  prayer  here,  an  offering 
there  to  help  you  grow  straighter  and 
truer  yet.  Church  was  the  next  high- 
est row  of  scaffolding,  where  each  ser- 
mon the  preacher  preached  helped  you 
to  grow  a  little  nearer  God. 

Just  think  what  fine  straight  Tem- 
ples of  God  we  ought  to  be,  with  all 
these  busy  builders  working  on  us  every 
day!  Yet  we  aren't  perfect,  are  we? 
Some  of  us  get  just  as  crooked  as 
crooked  can  be !  But  on  Boy  Street  and 
Girl  Street  there  live  brown  children 
and  yellow  children  and  red  children 
and  lots  and  lots  of  white  children  who 
have  no  one  to  help  them  build  their 


42  Fourth  Story 

temples  up  straight,  so  they  can  get 
nearer  God.  In  fact  they  don't  know 
they  are  temples  of  God,  or  that  they 
need  what  you  and  I  need,  to  help  them 
grow. 

But  the  grown-up  people  in  our 
church  have  always  known  about  it,  and 
for  years  and  years  they  have  said: 
^^We  must  help  all  the  boys  and  girls  in 
our  care,  all  around  the  world,  to  grow 
right.''  So  they  have  sent  over  teach- 
ers for  schools  and  Sunday  Schools,  and 
you  would  be  surprised  to  know  that 
brown  children  are  exactly  as  bright  as 
white  children  when  the  teachers  teach 
them. 

But  when  I  walk  along  the  avenues 
of  our  city  and  see  a  building  going 
up,  with  lonely  workmen  way  up  in 
the  air,  on  scaffolding,  working  pa- 
tiently away,  then  I  say  to  myself: 
*^How  lonely  they  look  way  up  there? 
I  wonder  if  it  isn't  a  bit  dangerous?  I 
wonder  if  they  wouldn't  rather  work 
down  nearer  the  earth?"  And  then,  of 
course,    I   know   that   unless   someone 


Scaffolding  43 

works  in  the  dangerous  lonely  places, 
that  building  will  not  grow,  and  I  am 
glad  someone  is  brave  and  skilful 
enough  to  stay  up  there  in  all  kinds  of 
weather  and  finish  the  building  the  way 
the  blue-print  shows  it  ought  to  be  fin- 
ished. 

That  is  just  what  our  missionaries  do 
— yours  and  mine — in  some  lonely  dan- 
gerous place  they  are  not  afraid  to 
build  up  the  little  houses-of-self  on 
Boy  Street  and  Girl  Street  the  world 
around.  They  never  think  about 
whether  they  would  rather  work  in  some 
cleaner,  prettier  place,  with  friends 
all  around  them,  for  they  know  the 
building  will  never  get  done  unless  they 
finish  it  to  look  exactly  the  way  the 
Bible  tells  them.  So  they  travel  in 
queer  wagons  and  in  queerer  boats,  they 
talk  in  queer  languages  to  queer  people, 
they  eat  queer  food  and  sleep  in  queer 
houses,  but  they  are  so  happy  to  be  do- 
ing worth-while  building  that  they  en- 
tirely forget  to  be  lonely  or  uncomforta- 
ble.   As  long  as  houses  need  scaffolding 


44  Fourth  Story 

to  help  tliem  grow,  and  as  long  as  boys 
and  girls  need  schools  to  help  theni 
grow,  I  know  there  will  always  be  build- 
ers to  do  the  work,  building  temples  of 
God  not  made  with  hands,  but  pure  and 
holy  and  happy  temples,  full  of  sweet 
voices  singing,  singing,  singing! 


FIFTH  STQRT 

Jesus  said:   *'l  am  the  Door" 


1.  "When  you  come  into  my  parlor,"  asks  the 
Chinese  house  so  queer.  "What  is  on  tlie  table  to 
show  ancestors  are  dear?" 


Ans, 


2.  And  now  permit  me  humbly  to  miserably  inquire 
why  no  one  moves  up  near  them  when  urged  to  sit 
up  higher? 


Ans. 


3.  And  when  you  drink  your  Chinese  tea,  what 
happens  to  the  cakes,  which  everyone  in  China  politely 
homeward  takes? 


Ans. 


4.  And  why  did  Chinese  grandpa  paste  a  picture 
on  the  door?  And  another  in  the  kitchen?  Please 
write  down  what  they're  for. 


Ans. 


45 


FIFTH  STORY 

'^WONT    YOU    COME    INTO    MY 
PARLOR?" 

Once  upon  a  time  when  Jesus  was 
here  among  men,  He  said  to  His 
friends:  ^^I  am  the  Door,  by  me  if  any 
man  enter  in,  he  shall  be  saved,  and 
shall  go  in  and  out."  Of  course,  you 
know  what  an  interesting  thing  a  door 
is,  don't  you?  When  you  stand  outside 
you  can't  help  but  wonder  and  wonder 
what  is  inside!  And  whether,  if  you 
knock  anyone  will  open  it !  Or  if  it  will 
be  as  nice  as  you  hoped  when  you  once 
get  inside. 

When  Jesus  said:  ^^I  am  the  Door," 
He  really  meant  He  was  the  Door  to 
God.  All  over  the  world  people  have 
been  trying  and  trying  to  get  near  to 
God,  and  to  them  Jesus  says:  *^I  am 
the  Door  to  God,  if  you  believe  on  Me, 
46 


Won't  You  Come  Into  My  Parlor?    47 

and  enter  me,  you  will  be  with  God  all 
the  time." 

This  month  I  am  going  to  take  you 
on  a  visit  to  China,  to  learn  how  one  by 
one  our  yellow  Chinese  brothers  and 
sisters  are  learning  about  the  Jesus- 
Door.  We  will  begin  by  pretending  to 
walk  down  a  Chinese  street  with  such 
a  funny  name :  The  Street  of  Ten  Thous- 
and Virtues,  although  the  houses  on  the 
street  do  not  seem  to  have  any  virtues, 
at  all!  They  all  have  the  strangest 
roofs,  like  the  one  on  your  cards,  with 
all  the  corners  tipping  up !  You  will  be 
amazed  to  learn  that  the  Chinese  build 
them  that  way  because  they  think  the 
air  is  full  of  dreadful  evil  spirits, — 
whom  they  cannot  see,  of  course,  but  of 
whom  they  are  terribly  afraid.  They 
even  think  the  evil  spii^its  are  always 
trying  to  slip  inside  their  houses  to 
harm  them,  so  they  make  all  the  roof 
corners  tip  up,  so  that  if  an  evil  spirit 
should  alight  on  any  part  of  the  roof, 
he  will  get  hit  on  a  sharp  point  and  be 
bounced  high  up  above  the  open  court- 


48  Fifth  Story 

yard!  I  can  see  you  find  it  very  hard 
to  believe  that  grown-up  men  and  wo- 
men could  believe  such  things,  but  it's 
quite  true,  and  inside  the  house  are 
more  queer  things. 

So  let  us  each  pretend  to  enter  the 
door  of  our  little  Chinese  house.  There 
is  no  doorbell,  so  we  must  knock  loudly 
and  say:  ''I  call!  I  call!''  Then  a  serv- 
ant in  blue  trousers  and  blue  coat  shuf- 
fles to  the  door  in  his  straw  sandals,  he 
flings  it  open  and  tucking  each  hand  up 
the  sleeve  of  the  other  arm,  he  bows 
very  politely  and  says:  '^Condescend  to 
enter !  I  beg  you  to  walk  in ! "  Doesn't 
it  remind  3^ou  a  little  of  the  spider  and 
the  fly:  *' Won't  you  walk  into  my  par- 
lor r'  etc. 

I  trust  we  will  each  be  polite  enough 
to  bow  too,  for  the  Chinese  have  won- 
derful manners,  and  think  we  Ameri- 
cans are  rather  impolite.  So  let  us  each 
bow,  and  shake  our  own  hands  by  tuck- 
ing each  hand  up  the  sleeve  of  the  other 
arm  and  shaking  them  up  and  down. 
Now  we  are  in  the  room,  and  two  ladies 


Won't  You  Come  Into  My  Parlor?    49 

are  hobbling  towards  us  on  their  tiny 
feet.  The  first  one  is  the  grand- 
mother who-always-has-her-own-way. 
She  bows  and  shakes  her  own  hands  (we 
do,  too,  of  course!)  as  she  begs  us  to  be 
seated  in  some  chairs  way  up  near  a 
table  at  the  end  of  the  room.  ^^Honor- 
able ones,  I  invite  you  to  sit  there.'' 

But  if  we  have  any  manners  at  all, 
we  must  not  sit  way  up  there  near  the 
table — no!  no!  Those  are  the  seats  of 
highest  honor,  and  we  try  to  sit  as  near 
the  door  as  possible.  Then  the  grand- 
mother-who-has-her-own-way  and  the 
meek  little  mother-who-never-has-her- 
own-way  and  the  two  cute  little  girls  in 
blue  all  cry  out  in  a  shrill  chorus :  '  ^  No ! 
No !  Sit  higher !  Sit  higher ! ' '  They  ac- 
tually try  to  pull  us  up  to  the  table,  but 
we  must  scuttle  into  the  seats  near  the 
middle  of  the  room,  neither  too  high  nor 
too  low.  I  know  you  must  be  all  agog 
with  curiosity  to  know  why  the  seats 
near  that  particular  table  are  so  honor- 
able. This  is  the  reason:  On  the  table 
are  some  thin  slabs  of  wood,  standing 


50  Fifth  Story 

up  on  end.  They  are  called  ^^  ancestral 
tablets."  Perhaps  I  ought  to  tell  you 
first  that  ancestors  are  a  person 's  grand- 
father, his  great-grandfather,  his  great- 
great-grandfather,  and  so  on.  The  Chi- 
nese are  always  wonderfully  kind  and 
polite  to  old  people,  so  when  an  ancestor 
dies  they  think  his  spirit  enters  into  just 
such  a  little  slab  of  wood  as  the  ones  on 
the  carved  table,  and  because  they  were 
always  very  kind  and  polite  to  him 
when  he  was  alive,  they  keep  right  on 
being  polite  to  the  slab  of  wood  where 
his  spirit  is  supposed  to  live — ^^the  an- 
cestral tablet."  Once  a  day  the  son  of 
the  house  kneels  before  the  tablets  to 
light  some  incense,  which  ought  to  make 
these  spirit-ancestors  happy!  It  is  be- 
cause these  ancestral  tablets  are  so  very 
important,  that  the  place  where  they 
stand  in  the  room  is  the  most  important 
place,  and  it's  very  bad  manners  to  sit 
up  near  them  unless  you  are  urged  and 
urged  and  urged. 

The    grandmother- who  -  always  -  has- 
her-own-way offers  us  tea.     The  cups 


Won't  You  Come  Into  My  Parlor?    51 

have  no  handles,  and  there  are  no  sau- 
cers. If  we  want  to  be  polite  we  must 
take  our  cups  in  both  hands,  and  when 
the  grandmother  urges  us  to  take  home 
the  cakes  and  other  things  in  our  hand- 
kerchiefs, we  must  remember  it  is  quite 
the  proper  thing  to  do  in  China !  Per- 
haps you  wish  this  part  of  the  trip  were 
not  all  ^^ pretend,''  although  I  am 
not  sure  you  would  enjoy  eating 
dried  melon  seeds,  roasted  monkey  nuts, 
pickled  onions  and  eggs  floating  in 
syrup ! 

The  doors  in  the  house  are  interesting, 
for  no  two  of  them  are  directly  across 
from  each  other!  Mercy  no!  You  see, 
evil  spirits  are  supposed  to  dart  in 
quick  straight  lines,  and  they  might 
rush  through  several  open  doors  at  once 
if  the  doors  were  all  opposite  each 
other,  then  if  anybody  happened  to  be 
standing  or  sitting  and  sleeping  be- 
tween opposite  doors  the  evil  spirits 
might  dart  right  into  them,  and  then 
they  would  be  sick!  It  seems  a  pity 
that  grown-up  people  can  be  so  foolish, 


52  Fifth  Story 

but  the  Chinese  fully  believe  it,  and 
make  their  doors — one  here,  and  one 
there,  then  if  the  evil  spirit  dashes  in 
one  door,  he  goes  hang  against  a  wall! 
They  feel  safer  with  their  doors  cut 
that  w^ay ;  but  not  entirely  safe,  either, 
for  on  the  front  door  is  pasted  a  piece 
of  paper  with  a  horrible  man  painted 
on  it  in  gorgeous  colors — reds,  blues, 
greens,  oranges.  Beside  him  is  a  little 
shelf  with  a  bowl  of  rice  on  it.  The 
picture  is  a  ^^door  god,''  to  watch  over 
the  door  and  scare  away  evil  spirits ;  the 
rice  is  to  keep  him  in  a  good  humor. 
There  is  a  pa]3er  kitchen  god  in  the 
kitchen  with  Ms  bowl  of  rice ;  and  some 
brass  idols  on  another  shelf  with  their 
bowels  of  rice. 

Imagine  being  afraid  of  something 
you  can't  see  every  single  moment  of 
the  day!  I  feel  sorry  for  the  poor 
old  grandmother-who-always-has-her- 
own-way  and  the  meek  little  mother — 
who  has  never-had-her-own-way  yet, 
don't  you?  But  it  is  time  we  ended 
our  call  for  to-day.     The  grandmother 


Won't  You  Come  Into  My  Parlor?  53 

says  it  has  made  flowers  bloom  in 
the  garden  of  her  mind  and  instead 
of  saying  ^^good-by''  we  tell  her  we 
have  troubled  her  too  much,  that  she 
has  spent  too  much  money  on  us !  She 
bows  very  politely,  and  we  begin  hack- 
ing out  the  door,  while  she  says :  ^^  Walk 
slowly!  Walk  slowly!"  which  we  have 
to  do,  not  being  used  to  walking  back- 
ward ! 


SIXTH  STORY 
Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Door" 

CHILDEEN  IN  BLUE  AND  WHAT 
THEY  DO 


1.  Here  is  small  Ling  Te,  and  here  is  "Number 
Two."  Please  write  and  tell  me  why  their  names 
sound   rather  mean   to   you? 

Ans 

±  I  wonder  if  you  can  recall  what  hurts  their 
tiny  feet  so  small? 

Ans 

3.  What  are  some  funny  things  they  do  to  baby 
boys  when  they  are  new? 

Name?   Earring?   

SJiocs? Cap? Picture? 

4.  What  do  you  think  these  children  need,  a  happier 
nicer  life  to  lead? 

Ans 

54 


SIXTH  STORY 

**  CHILDREN  IN  BLUE  AND 
WHAT  THEY  DO  I" 

Last  Sunday  we  made  a  very  formal 
tea-call  in  the  parlor  of  the  grand- 
mother-who-always-has-her-own-way,  so 
to-day  it  will  be  more  fun  to  play  with 
those  two  quiet  little  girls  in  blue.  If 
we  get  there  early  enough  in  the  morn- 
ing, we  will  find  them  just  hopping  out 
of  bed,  although  you  will  be  surprised 
to  hear  that  the  bed  is  built  of  bricks! 
The  night  before  they  wrapped  them- 
selves snugly  in  a  quilt  and  lay  right 
down  on  the  bricks.  Being  February 
it  is  very  cold,  of  course,  so  a  fire  is  built 
under  the  bricks.  Maybe  their  bed  is 
not  very  soft,  but  it  is  very  nice  and 
warm ! 

Grown  -  up  people  sometimes  call 
China  ^'The  land  of  the  blue  gown,'' 
because  almost  everybody  wears  blue, 

55 


56  Sixth  Story 

so  when  I  tell  you  about  these  little 
children  in  blue  and  what  they  do, 
the  very  first  thing  will  be  about  their 
jackets.  February  is  such  a  cold  month 
that  when  little  Ling  Te  jumps  up  from 
her  brick  bed  she  shivers  and  says  to 
her  sister:  ^^B'rrrr!  It  is  five  jackets 
cold  to-day!"  You  see,  there  is  no  fur- 
nace in  her  house  with  the  green  tip-up 
roof  so  Ling  Te  piles  on  as  many  jack- 
ets as  she  thinks  she  needs — five  jack- 
ets today — until  she  is  stuffed  out  as 
round  as  a  plump  pincushion.  Toward 
noon,  when  she  feels  warmer,  she  will 
peel  off  a  layer  or  two,  and  begin  to  look 
positively  thin! 

You  might  almost  think  Ling  Te  was 
a  boy  from  her  trousers,  but  her  grand- 
mother and  her  mother  wear  them  too. 
The  baby  tied  on  her  back  shows  she  is 
a  girl,  at  once,  for  Chinese  sisters  take 
care  of  their  tiny  sisters  and  brothers 
that  way.  It  seems  a  risky  tiling  to  be 
a  Chinese  hahy!  Not  only  because  it 
looks  rather  dangerous  to  be  bounced 
around  all  day  tied   on  sister's  back, 


Children  in  Blue  and  What  They  Do     57 

while  she  plays  exciting  games  called, 
''Going  to  Town ''or ''Hawk  and  Dove," 
but  the  baby's  mother  has  queer  notions 
about  the  harm  evil  spirits  may  do  to 
her  precious  baby  boy.  You  remember 
I  told  you  about  the  evil  spirits  last 
week,  how  there  really  are  no  such 
things  in  God's  beautiful  world,  but  the 
Chinese  think  there  are.  The  mother 
is  afraid  the  spirits  will  envy  her  happi- 
ness in  having  a  w^onderf  ul  baby  boy,  so 
she  pretends  he  is  only  a  girl  and  calls 
him  "Suey  Sin  Fah,"  a  girl's  name 
which  means, ' '  Lily  Flower. ' '  She  puts 
an  earring  into  his  ear,  too,  and  pre- 
tends to  slap  him  and  call  him  an  ugly 
little  spider  ("Kom  Loi") ! 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  about  the 
slabs  of  wood  called,  "Ancestral  Tab- 
lets," which  the  son  of  a  house  wor- 
ships every  day.  It  is  because  only  boys 
can  worship  these  tablets,  that  Chinese 
families  really  don't  want  to  have 
daughters.  Let  me  tell  you  about  dear 
little  Ling  Te! 

When  she  was  born,  everybody  from 


58  Sixth  Story 

the  grandmother-who-always-has-her- 
own-way  to  the  stupid  old  cook,  shook 
their  heads  dolefully  and  said:  **0h, 
what  a  pity!  She's  only  a  girl!  No 
good  at  all!  No  good  at  all!''  Her 
father  said:  ^^Call  her  ^Ling  Te'!" 
which  means  in  English,  ^  ^  Lead- Along- 
a-Brother."  So  you  can  just  imagine 
how  disgusted  they  all  were  when  the 
second  cute  baby  was  a  girl,  too ! 

^^Oh  dear!"  wailed  the  grandmother 
who  wasn't  having  her  own  way  at  all, 
^^the  gods  have  forgotten  us!"  And 
the  father  said:  *^ Never  mind  about 
giving  the  little  nuisance  a  name^  just 
call  her  'Number  two'!''  So  that  was 
her  name — wouldn't  you  just  hate  to  be 
of  as  little  importance  as  that  ? 

The  meek  little  mother-who-never- 
had-her-own-way  was  meeker  than  ever, 
because  a  mother  can't  even  begin  to 
have  her  own  way,  in  China,  until  she 
is  the  mother  of  sons.  That  is  why  the 
grandmother  had  her  own  way  all  the 
time,  because  her  sons  were  grown-up 
and  very  important. 


Children  in  Blue  and  What  They  Do     59 

It  was  a  good  thing  that  they  really 
did  have  a  baby  boy  born  in  their  family 
soon ;  you  have  no  idea  how  happy  they 
all  were  inside,  although  they  did  not 
dare  act  too  happy,  for  fear  of  those 
jealous  evil  spirits  who  hate  to  see  peo- 
ple happy.  In  China  they  say  that 
^'eighteen  goddess-like  daughters  are 
not  equal  to  one  son  with  a  limp!''  and 
although  this  new  baby  was  not  nearly 
as  pretty  as  the  little  girls,  he  was  a 
boy!  Such  a  fuss  as  they  made  over 
him! 

The  old  grandmother  herself  hobbled 
around  on  her  tiny  bound  feet,  and 
asked  a  hundred  different  families  to 
give  her  one  cash  apiece  to  buy  an  ear- 
ring for  the  boy.  She  made  him  a  little 
red  cap  all  covered  with  looking-glasses, 
because  evil  spirits  get  scared  and  run 
away  when  they  see  themselves  in  a 
glass!  The  mother  fastened  little  fur 
cats'  feet  on  the  baby's  slippers  so  he 
could  walk  lightly  as  a  cat,  and  never 
stumble!  She  put  a  picture  of  an 
archer  on  the  wall,  who  could  shoot  any 


6o  Sixth  Story 

evil  spirit  bringing  disease.  And  now  lie 
spends  most  of  his  time  being  bounced 
around  on  Ling  Te's  back  while  she 
plays. 

Ling  Te  can't  play  as  well  as  she  used 
to,  because  her  grandmother  has  bound 
her  feet  up  tightly  to  make  them  look 
small.  She  turned  the  toes  under,  and 
every  day  she  pulled  the  bandages 
tighter  and  tighter.  It  hurt  terribly, 
and  Ling  Te  and  Number  Two  cried 
and  screamed  just  the  way  little  girls 
all  over  China  have  screamed  for 
years  and  years.  The  old  grandmother 
screamed  when  she  was  a  little  girl,  too. 
In  China  they  say  that  *^for  every  pair 
of  bound  feet  there  is  a  bed  of  tears!'' 
They  call  them  '^golden  lilies,''  and 
think  they  are  very  beautiful,  although 
to  us  they  look  very  deformed  and  ugly. 
But  they  think  no  girl  can  get  married 
and  have  a  mother-in-law  unless  her 
feet  are  bound. 

These  are  only  a  few  of  the  things  the 
children  in  blue  do ;  I  am  sure  you  must 
be  saying  to  yourselves,  ^^Well,  haven't 


Children  in  Blue  and  What  They  Do    6i 

we  a  missionary  in  China  I  It  does 
seem  as  if  someone  ought  to  visit  Ling 
Te's  home  and  tell  her  father  and  her 
grandmother  a  thing  or  two  about  girls, 
and  about  evil  spirits.' ' 

Oh  yes,  we  have  a  good  many  mis- 
sionaries in  China ;  but,  you  see,  China 
is  a  perfectly  huge  country,  and  thirty 
missionaries  aren^t  nearly  enough  to  go 
around  among  so  many  different  peo- 
ple. Somebody  in  China  will  always 
have  to  be  left  out,  I  'm  afraid ;  although 
let  me  whisper  to  you  that  I  wouldn't 
be  at  all  surprised  if  one  of  our  mis- 
sionaries should  happen  to  visit  Ling 
Te's  home  next  Sunday. 


SEVENTH  STORY 

Jesus  said:   **I  am  the  Door" 

"OVEE    THE    HILLS    AND    FAR 

AWAY  IN  A  CHINESE  CHAIR 

THAT  CAN  TRAVEL  ALL 

DAY" 


..  ■:•>M^m>u.  ^i-Mil, „>,„„, ,„„„,,,„„^,.,*.,M,    ..7    '»,V/.r.' -«,,.... ,  'j^lyilf^ljjljjj^l^jrg^^^^ 

1.  What  does  one  call  this  Chinese  chair,  carried 
all  day  by  this   curious  pair? 

Ans 

2.  What  do  they  do  a  sick  baby  to  cure  to  make 
"Heavenly  Blossoms"  grow  fewer  and  fewer? 

Ans , 

3.  What  did  the  Chinese  father  say  about  sending 
his  daughters  to  school  some  day? 

An^ 

4.  Tell   what   the   Chinese   villagers   say   whenever 
our  missionary  rides  away. 

An^ 

62 


SEVENTH  STORY 

^^OVER    THE    HILLS    AND    FAR 

AWAY  IN  A  CHINESE  CHAIR 

THAT  CAN  TRAVEL  ALL 

DAY!'' 

There  is  a  city  in  China  called  Amoy, 
where  a  great  many  of  our  very  own 
missionaries  live,  so  that  they  can  teach 
in  our  schools  which  are  there,  or  doc- 
tor people  in  our  hospitals,  or  preach  to 
people  in  our  churches!  They  are  the 
busiest  people  you  can  imagine,  yet  one 
day,  one  of  our  missionaries  said  to  her- 
self :  ^  ^  I  am  going  to  take  two  weeks  and 
travel  around  to  as  many  little  villages 
as  I  can,  to  tell  about  Jesus." 

Traveling  among  these  little  villages 
is  not  at  all  easy,  because  there  are 
no  railroads  and  no  automobiles.  She 
hired  a  sedan  chair  and  two  coolies 
to  carry  it.  Then  she  packed  a  lot  of 
little  Bibles,  Sunday-school  cards,  and 
63 


64  Seventh  Story 

leaflets  inside,  after  which  she  got  in 
herself,  and  off  the  coolies  started.  All 
day  long,  and  for  several  days,  the 
creaking  of  the  chair  poles  kept  time 
with  the  patter  of  the  coolies'  sandals,  as 
they  followed  the  rough  paths  over  the 
hills, — past  gay  pagodas  with  five  sto- 
ries, past  wayside  shrines  with  hideous 
idols  inside,  through  bamboo  groves  and 
little  villages. 

But  at  each  little  village  she  stopped 
and  made  some  visits.  It  would  be  like 
playing  tag  to  follow  her  into  all  the 
homes,  for  she  was  very  busy  all  day 
long.  But  I  want  to  tell  you  about  two 
of  these  visits,  for  they  were  so  much 
like  all  the  others  she  made,  day  after 
day,  on  her  trip. 

This  is  the  way  she  did:  ^^ Coolie!'' 
she  called,  ^^I  want  to  visit  in  this  next 
house!"  So  the  coolies  set  her  chair 
down  on  the  ground,  she  stepped  out, 
and  knocked  at  the  door.  ^^I  call!  I 
call!"  she  said. 

The  door  opened  and  she  was  politely 
ushered  into  a  room  where  the  lady  of 


Over  the  Hills  65 

the  house  said:  ^^How  honored  I  am  to 
see  you!  I  pray  you  to  sit  higher! 
Sit  higher!"  But  our  missionary  had 
learned  good  Chinese  manners,  and 
would  not  be  so  rude  as  to  sit  up  near 
the  ancestral  tablets!  She  sat  quite 
near  the  door,  and  said : 

*^Has  your  body  peace?"  Meaning, 
was  she  pretty  well  ? 

*^No,  it  is  very  much  not  peace!" 
sighed  the  poor  little  lady  with  bound 
feet. 

^^Oh,  I  am  so  sorry!"  said  our  mis- 
sionary, ^^I  hope  all  the  little  brothers 
and  sisters  have  peace?"  And  she 
pointed  to  the  spellbound  family  of 
little  yellow  boys  and  girls  in  blue,  who 
sat  listening  to  this  nice  white  lady  who 
wore  a  hat ! 

*^Yes,  they  all  have  peace,  except 
'  Little  Dog  M  "  said  the  mother.  ' '  Little 
Log,"  of  course,  was  the  precious  baby 
boy  who  was  given  this  name  to  make 
the  evil  spirits  think  he  was  no  good  at 
all.  "  ^Little  Dog'  has  Heavenly  Blos- 
soms, alas!"  the  mother  added. 


66  Seventh  Story 

Now  that  certainly  sounds  very 
pretty,  doesn't  it?  But  it  made  our 
missionary  want  to  run  right  out  of  the 
house,  only  she  didn't^  for  missionaries 
are  brave  and  used  to  startling  things. 
For  ^^ Heavenly  Blossoms"  was  one  of 
the  Chinese  ways  of  saying  that  Little 
Dog  had  small'pox.  Perhaps  you  know 
that  small-pox  is  a  disease  like  chicken- 
pox  and  measles,  only  so  much  worse 
that  one's  whole  body  is  covered  with 
little  red  spots,  and  it  is  dangerously 
easy  to  catcli  the  disease,  and  very  hard 
to  keep  from  dying  when  you  once  get 
it.  So  do  you  wonder  our  missionary 
was  startled? 

But  instead  of  running  away,  she 
said:  **What  medicine  are  you  giving 
^Little  Dog'?" 

*^Well!"  said  his  mother  unhappily, 
*^We  have  tried  everything.  We  have 
tied  red  rags  around  his  head,  because 
the  small-pox  goddess  likes  red,  and  we 
have  held  a  red  hot  coin  on  each 
shoulder  to  let  the  evil  spirits  out,  but 
he  gets  worse  every  day." 


Over  the  Hills  67 

That  was  our  missionary's  chance. 
For  although  she  was  not  a  doctor  she 
knew  a  few  things,  and  she  explained 
them  to  the  mother :  how  small-pox  was 
contagious,  and  she  must  keep  all  the 
other  children  away;  about  a  simple 
remedy ;  then  leaving  a  picture  card  of 
Christ  blessing  little  children,  she  po- 
litely backed  out  of  the  room,  praying 
in  her  heart  that  God  would  bless  this 
family. 

Now  it  just  happened  this  family 
lived  next  door  to  Ling  Te's  house,  and 
although  our  missionary  was  very  tired, 
she  decided  to  go  in  there,  for  she  had 
seen  the  two  cute  littlb  girls  in  blue. 

All  over  again  they  said  the  words 
that  always  have  to  be  said  in  Chinese 
visits.  The  grandmother-who-always- 
has-her-own-way  said:  ''Sit  higher!  Sit 
higher!''  But  our  missionary  sat  near 
the  door,  of  course.  Then  she  inquired 
for  everybody's  health— ''Did  they  have 
peace?"  And  after  she  knew  all  about 
the  family's  health,  and  had  admired 
the  baby,  who  should  walk  in  but  the 


68  Seventh  Story 

father  himself !  You  have  not  seen  him 
yet,  or  heard  about  him  very  much.  He 
was  very  solemn-looking,  with  limp 
black  mustaches  that  drooped  down  on 
each  side  of  his  mouth.  He  wore  a  black 
cap  with  a  red  button  on  top,  and  car- 
ried a  fan. 

He  bowed  to  our  missionary,  and  our 
missionary  bowed  politely  to  him. 

Then  our  missionary  said:  ^^ Honored 
sir,  I  notice  you  have  two  honorable 
daughters,  who  seem  unusually  bright. 
Would  you  not  like  to  send  them  to  our 
school  for  girls  in  Amoy  so  they  can 
learn  to  read  and  write?'' 

You  ought  to  have  seen  this  solemn- 
looking  gentleman  then !  He  nearly  fell 
over,  he  was  so  surprised ! 

^'August  lady,''  he  said,  '^yow  fill  the 
air  with  useless  words!  Teach  my 
stupid  little  girls  to  read  ?  Why  excel- 
lency, that  is  quite  impossible — there  is 
nothing  in  their  empty  heads — ^maybe 
you  could  teach  my  cows  or  my  chick- 
ens, but  never  my  unworthy  daugh- 
ters!" 


Over  the  Hills  69 

Of  course,  our  missionary  knew  more 
about  girls  than  that!  She  told  him 
about  the  girls  in  our  very  own  school 
at  Amoy,  and  she  must  have  told  it  very 
well  indeed,  for  he  was  convinced  that 
it  would  be  worth  trying ;  and  one  day, 
a  week  later,  you  could  have  seen  a  pro- 
cession of  three  blue  sedan  chairs  and 
six  coolies,  two  for  each  chair,  with 
bundles  of  clothes  and  bedding  and  rice 
tied  on  top,  starting  off  for  Amoy.  In- 
side one  chair  sat  Ling  Te,  inside  an- 
other sat  ''Number  Two,"  inside  the 
third  sat  their  dignified  father,  who 
wanted  to  see  the  wonderful  school  for 
girls,  himself. 

''Go  slowly!  Go  slowly!''  called 
the  grandmother  -  who-always-has-her 
own-way.  And  three  voices  from  the 
three  chairs,  answered  politely:  "Sit 
slowly!    We  are  going!" 

And  meanwhile  where  was  our  mis- 
sionary ?    Oh  she  was — 

"Over  the  hills  and  far  away  in  her 
Chinese  chair  that  can  travel  all  day." 
She  had  visited  many,  many  little  vil- 


70  Seventh  Story 

lages  in  that  week,  she  had  bowed  to 
many  little  Chinese  mothers,  she  had 
given  out  many  little  Bibles  and  told 
many  stories  about  Jesus,  the  door  to 
God,  she  had  interested  many  families 
in  sending  their  daughters  to  school. 
Everybody  was  glad  to  see  her  chair 
coming,  and  sorry  to  see  it  leaving.  In 
each  village  they  said:  *^ Condescend  to 
make  your  honorable  home  in  our  in- 
significant town.  Let  my  miserable 
rooftree  shelter  you,  but  do  not  leave 
us!" 

But  she  knew  she  must  not  stay,  that 
she  must  be  jounced  back  to  Amoy  in 
the  old  sedan-chair,  for  she  had  lots  of 
work  to  do  there,  which  we  will  hear 
about  next  Sunday. 


EIGHTH  STORY 

Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Door" 

A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR 


An  idol-shelf  in  a  Chinese  house 

1.  Mention  three  things  learned  by  Ling  Te  about 
"Idols,"  and  "Spirits,"  and  having  "Feet"  free. 

Ans 

2.  Why  does  Ling  Te's  father,  on  New  Year's  Day, 
fire  off  noisy  firecrackers,  and  all  his  debts  pay? 

Ans 

3.  Why  does  he  burn  the  paper  god,  and  give  them 
queer  gilt  money?  If  it  wasn't  all  so  useless,  wouldn't 
it  seem  funny? 

Ans 

4.  Since  "wife"  is  a  word  no  husband  dares  speak, 
how  does  he  describe  her,  showing  she's  meek? 

Ans 

71 


EIGHTH  STORY 

^'A    HAPPY    NEW    YEAR!'' 

Last  Sunday  we  left  our  missionary 
going  to  Amoy,  **Over  the  hills  and  far 
away  in  her  Chinese  chair  that  can 
travel  all  day." 

Although  Amoy  is  quite  a  big  city, 
the  streets  are  as  narrow  as  alleys,  and 
her  coolies  had  to  keep  calling,  '*  Clear 
the  way!  Chair  coming!"  Even  then 
when  they  turned  a  corner  the  long 
poles  went  bump!  bump!  against  the 
walls  of  the  houses,  and  knocked  over 
a  peddler's  stall  of  molasses  candy  or 
some  barber's  outdoor  shop  where  he 
was  cutting  people's  hair,  right  in  the 
street!  There  was  some  squabbling  in 
Chinese,  squabbling  that  was  just  as  im- 
polite as  it  sounded,  I  fear ! 

But  finally  our  missionary  reached 
the  gate  of  a  red  brick  building, — 
our  very  own  **  Developing  Character 
72 


A  Happy  New  Year!  73 

School  for  Girls/'  It  was  here  that 
Ling  Te  and  ^'Number  Two"  came  in 
their  sedan-chairs  a  long  while  before, 
by  this  time  they  were  quite  at  home 
there,  and  learning  so  much!  They 
found  it  was  going  to  be  quite  easy  to 
learn  to  read,  and  to  add,  subtract  and 
multiply!  They  saw  all  the  other  girls 
doing  it  every  day,  and  acting  just  as 
if  it  were  the  most  matter-of-fact  thing 
in  the  world  for  girls  to  be  educated. 

Just  to  show  you  how  they  were  learn- 
ing that  some  of  their  old  ways  were 
wrong,  here  is  ^^ Number  Two's"  com- 
position on  Foot-binding,  translated 
from  the  Chinese  so  you  can  understand 
it: 

^^It  is  very  wrong  to  bind  the  feet  be- 
cause God  made  man's  feet  and  hands 
perfect.  God  never  commanded  people 
to  bind  the  feet.  God  made  man  with 
five  toes.  When  people  bind  these  toes 
into  one  ball  so  they  cannot  move,  it  is 
very  wrong.  People  who  know  this 
should  quickly  unbind,  that  they  may 
have  as  before  five  toes  and  no  less.  God 


74  Eighth  Story 

made  toes  round  and  it  is  foolish  in  the 
extreme  to  bind  them  until  they  are 
flat/' 

^'Number  Two"  had  been  in  our 
school  two  years  when  she  wrote  that, 
and  I  think  it  shows  how  much  she  was 
learning  and  thinking.  She  and  Ling 
Te  had  had  their  feet  unbound,  and 
when  they  went  back  home  for .  New 
Year's  vacation  their  grandmother- 
who-always-had-her-own-way  nearly 
fainted  to  see  granddaughters  of  hers 
walking  around  like  hoys  on  big  feet! 

Ling  Te  and  ^^ Number  Two"  very  po- 
litely explained  ^^the  why"  and  ^^the 
how"  of  what  they  had  done,  and  they 
talked  a  great  deal  about  Jesus,  just 
as  they  had  done  on  their  other  vaca- 
tion home.  They  said  there  were  no 
such  things  as  evil  spirits  really,  for 
God  had  made  the  world  safe  for  every- 
body. The  idols  were  no  good,  either, 
they  were  only  useless  bits  of  wood  and 
stone,  like  dolls! 

**Tut!  Tut!"  said  the  grandmother- 
who-always-had-her-own-way,  ^^you  lit- 


A  Happy  New  Year!  75 

tie  girls  talk  like  tea-pots!  You  have 
filled  the  pockets  of  your  minds  with  too 
much  knowledge." 

Yet  down  in  her  heart  she  admired 
these  granddaughters  who  could  do  so 
many  more  things  than  she  could  do, — 
for  she  did  not  know  how  to  read  or 
write,  dear  me,  no!  And  she  did  not 
know  any  pretty  songs  about  Jesus,  or 
any  stories  about  what  He  did  when  He 
was  here  among  men.  Yet  she  was  still 
very  much  afraid  of  evil  spirits,  and 
every  morning  offered  rice  to  the  idols 
in  the  house. 

New  Year's  Day  comes  in  February 
in  China,  not  on  the  same  day  as  ours, 
and  it  is  quite  a  different  kind  of  day, 
too !  There  was  the  greatest  stir  getting 
ready  for  it:  Ling  Te  and  ^^ Number 
Two"  helped  fix  up  the  whole  house, 
and  they  each  had  new  jackets  and  new 
trousers  and  new  flowers  for  their  hair. 
Their  father  hurried  around  to  pay  all 
his  debts,  for  if  he  should  forget  to  pay 
everything  he  owed,  then  the  man  to 
whom  he  owed  money  might  come  and 


76  Eighth  Story 

steal  away  Ms  front  door!  I  hope  you 
have  not  forgotten  the  paper  door  god 
on  that  front  door,  or  how  every  New 
Year's  Day  there  must  be  a  new  god  on 
the  door.  Otherwise  everybody  in  China 
thinks  the  prowling  evil  spirits,  who 
are  livelier  than  ever  at  New  Year's 
time,  would  sneak  in  and  spoil  every- 
one's happiness  during  all  the  coming 
year. 

Ling  Te  and  ^^ Number  Two"  kept 
saying  over  and  over  again,  very  po- 
litely: ^^  Honorable  parents,  there  really 
are  no  evil  spirits!"  But  their  father 
took  down  the  old  paper  door  god,  and 
ceremoniously  burned  it  in  a  basin  just 
the  same  old  way  he  had  done  for  years 
and  years.  He  threw  some  gilt  paper 
money  in  the  fire  to  please  the  evil  spir- 
its so  they  would  tell  only  good  tales 
about  his  family  up  in  the  spirit  world ! 

On  New  Year's  morning  there  was 
the  greatest  racket  in  the  world — three 
Fourths  of  July  could  not  possibly 
equal  it!  For  the  air  was  fairly  alive 
with  the  din  of  firecrackers  and  the 


A  Happy  New  Year!  77 

glare  of  rockets.  Because  you  cannot 
guess  what  all  this  noise  is  for,  I  shall 
have  to  tell  you  it  is  to  scare  away  the 
evil  spirits  from  people's  front  doors! 

The  gentlemen  went  a-calling,  too, 
that  day,  leaving  great  red  visiting 
cards  at  their  friends'  houses,  and  wish- 
ing each  other  ^^HSIU  HSI,"— which 
means,  ''New  Happiness,"  in  English. 
Families  saved  the  cards  for  a  long 
time,  to  show  how  many  callers  they 
had  had.  But  the  men  went  alone, — for 
in  China,  husbands  hardly  ever  go  out 
on  the  street  with  their  wives.  If  they 
do,  he  walks  ahead,  and  she  meekly 
walks  behind!  That  is  the  way  men 
speak  of  their  wives:  ''My  Walk  Be- 
hind,'' or  "The  Person  who  occupies 
my  inner  apartment" — it  would  not  be 
at  all  proper  to  say  ''my  wife''! 

The  grandmother  -  who-always-had- 
her-own-way  had  one  caller  on  New 
Year's  Day,  another  of  our  missiona- 
ries; they  wished  each  other  "HSIU 
HSI,"  "New  Happiness,"  and  then  our 
missionary  told  what  that  new  happi- 


78  Eighth  Story 

ness  would  be  if  only  the  family  would 
all  follow  Jesus  that  year. 

I  can't  tell  you  all  the  ins  and  the 
outs  of  this  story,  but  in  one  more  year 
the  whole  family  really  were  following 
Jesus ;  and  when  the  father  threw  away 
all  the  useless  old  idols,  which  they 
would  never  worship  again,  this  is  how 
he  prayed  to  the  one  God,  whom  they 
had  come  to  worship:  *^Our  Father 
which  art  in  heaven,  these  silly  idols  are 
like  rusty  keys  with  which  we  tried  to 
unlock  the  door  to  safety.  But  now  we 
know  that  Jesus  is  the  Door  to  God, 
help  us  all  to  enter  in,  and  tell  others 
that  they  can  trust  thee." 

Even  the  grandmother-who-always- 
had-her-own-way  had  had  a  change  of 
heart,  for  she  prayed:  '^Lord,  help  me 
not  to  have  my  own  way  all  the  time 
now!"  So  I  really  think  this  story 
shows  how  wonderfully  our  missiona- 
ries in  China  are  helping  families  to 
love  Jesus,  don't  you? 


NINTH  STORY 

Jesus  said:  *'I  am  the  Good  Shepherd" 

BLACK  SHEEP 


1.  Please  name  the  ships  a-sailing,  a-sailing  on  the 
sea,  the  one  ship  carrying  Freedom,  the  other  Slavery? 


Ans.    (1) (2) 


2.  Please  tell  the  kind  of  cabin  poor  Booker's  mother 
had,  and  how  the  little  colored  boy  uncomfortably 
was  clad? 


Ans. 


3.  Who  was  it  set  the  slaves   all  free?     A  name 
well-known  to  you  and  me? 

Ans 


79 


NINTH  STORY 

^^BAA!  BAA!  BLACK  SHEEP!'' 

Once  when  Jesus  was  here  among 
men,  He  said  to  His  friends:  ^^I  am  the 
good  shepherd,  and  know  my  sheep 
and  am  known  of  mine.  The  good  shep- 
herd giveth  his  life  for  his  sheep."  And 
I  dare  say  every  one  of  the  people  who 
heard  Him,  said  to  himself  or  herself: 
^^That  means  me,''  ^^that  means  my 
family!"  But  Jesus  could  always  see 
just  what  was  in  people's  minds,  so  He 
also  said:  ^^ Other  sheep  I  have  which 
are  not  of  this  fold,  them  also  I  must 
bring,  and  they  shall  hear  my  voice,  and 
there  shall  be  one  fold  and  one  shep- 
herd." 

Don't  you  just  love  this  new  name 
for  Jesus?  I  love  it  because  it  really 
brings  in  every  single  person  in  the 
world — black  sheep  as  well  as  white 
sheep!  This  month  I  want  to  tell  you 
80 


Baa!  Baa!  Black  Sheep!  8i 

about  some  black  sheep,  who  are  slowly 
coming  to  know  about  Jesus  as  their 
good  shepherd.  I  suppose  each  of  you 
has  seen  negroes,  haven't  you"?  For 
it  is  about  the  negroes  in  our  country  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  to-day. 

First  of  all,  I  would  like  to  have  you 
answer  these  questions:  Who  knows 
the  name  of  the  little  boat  that  crossed 
the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  landed  on  Ply- 
mouth Rock  in  1620?  Yes,  the  May- 
flower!  And  what  day  do  we  keep  every 
November  in  honor  of  the  day  they 
landed  ?  Yes,  Thanksgiving  Day.  But 
do  you  know  why  it  was  that  the  Pil- 
grims especially  gave  thanks  to  God? 
Let  me  tell  you:  it  was  because  they 
were  so  glad  to  be  in  a  free  land  where 
they  could  worship  God  and  live  exactly 
as  they  wanted  to  live ! 

Day  by  day  as  the  Mayfloiver  was 
rocking  its  long  weary  way  over  the 
ocean,  another  ship  called  the  Treas- 
ure}' was  also  rocking  and  rolling  its 
long  weary  way  over  the  very  same 
ocean.    It  was  a  very  tiresome  trip  to 


82  Ninth  Story 

everybody  in  both  ships,  only  there  was 
such  a  big  difference  in  the  passengers. 
For  the  Pilgrims  in  the  Mayflower 
ivanted  to  come,  so  they  could  have  free- 
dom to  worship  God.  While  the  poor 
black  passengers  in  the  Treasurer  were 
forced  to  come,  most  unwillingly,  be- 
cause they  were  black  men  being 
brought  over  from  Africa  as  slaves, 
with  no  possible  hope  of  freedom. 
Everybody  is  proud  of  the  people  who 
came  in  the  Mayflower,  but  none  of  us 
like  to  remember  about  the  twenty  poor 
slaves  in  the  Treasurer,  so  many  years 
ago. 

They  landed  in  a  place  called  James- 
town, where  some  cruel  white  men 
bought  them  to  work  on  their  big 
cotton  and  tobacco  farms  called  plan- 
tations. More  and  more  ships  kept 
bringing  over  black  slaves  until  finally 
there  were  a  million  of  them.  They 
were  very  unhappy,  because  some  of 
their  masters  treated  them  very  badly, 
whipping  them  when  they  did  not 
work  hard  enough  or  when  anything 


Baa!  Baa!  Black  Sheep!  83 

went  wrong.  But  a  very  wonderful 
American  whom  we  all  know  about 
signed  a  very  important  paper  which 
set  all  these  poor  slaves  free, — I  think 
perhaps  you  already  know  that  this 
famous  man's  name  was  Abraham  Lin- 
coln, and  the  important  paper  was 
called  the  Proclamation  of  Emancipa- 
tion. 

Here  is  the  true  story  of  a  little  slave 
boy  named  Booker,  who  had  no  last 
name  because  he  did  not  know  who  his 
father  was.  He  lived  in  a  log  cabin 
with  his  mother,  who  was  also  a  slave, 
of  course.  She  cooked  the  meals  for 
everybody  on  the  plantation.  Their  log 
cabin  was  very  dirty  and  unattractive, 
— no  glass  in  the  windows,  no  floor  but 
the  earth  itself,  even  the  door  would 
not  shut  tight,  so  the  cold  air  and  the 
rain  could  make  it  very  unpleasant  and 
damp  inside. 

Booker's  mother  had  no  stove,  but  did 
all  her  cooking  at  the  open  fireplace. 
She  was  so  busy  all  day  long  that  no 
one  in  her  family  sat  down  to  meals. 


84  Ninth  Story 

but  ate  a  piece  of  bread  now,  or  a  scrap 
of  meat  then,  a  glass  of  milk  here,  and 
some  sweet  potatoes  there,  at  any  time 
of  day  or  night ! 

When  Booker  was  old  enough  he  used 
to  go  at  meal-times  to  the  *^big  house" 
where  the  white  family  lived,  to  fan 
away  the  flies  from  the  table  with  some 
large  paper  fans  worked  by  a  pulley. 
Can't  you  just  imagine  how  big  his  eyes 
were  while  he  watched  this  fine  family 
eating  and  talking  *? 

Poor  Booker's  clothes  were  just  as 
uncomfortable  as  his  home  and  the 
queer  meals  he  had.  For  his  first  shoes 
were  wooden  ones,  with  rough  leather 
on  the  top.  The  soles  never  could  bend 
when  he  walked,  of  course,  because 
they  were  wooden,  and  oh!  how  they 
squeaked  !  But  even  worse  than  the 
shoes,  were  his  jlax  shirts,  made  out  of 
rough  flax.  Years  later  when  he  grew 
up  he  wrote  a  book  about  himself,  and 
said  those  dreadful  shirts  felt  like 
pricMy  chest  nut  hurrs  against  his  body 
at  first !    After  a  week  or  so  the  sharp 


Baa!  Baa!  Black  Sheep!  85 

pin  points  would  get  broken-in  a  little, 
but  at  first  they  were  simply  agony  to 
him! 

Then  came  the  wonderful  day  when 
Abraham  Lincoln  signed  the  important 
paper  making  every  one  of  these  black 
people  free.  Of  course,  that  included 
Booker  and  his  mother.  Next  Sunday 
I  will  tell  you  about  what  he  did. 


TEXTH  STORY 

Jesus  said:  **I  am  the  Good  Shepherd" 

"THE  BOY  WHO  SWEPT  THE 
CORNEES  CLEAN" 


1.  How  did  Booker  arrange  so  he  had  a  "hat"  and 
a  "name"  like  each  other  lad? 

Ans 

2.  Tell  how  he  walked  for  five  hundred  miles  and 
slept  on  his  journey  in  curious  styles? 

Ans 

3.  Tell   how    he    would   have    been    sent    home    in 
gloom  unless  he  had  swept  all  the  dust  from  a  room? 

Ans 

4.  I  wonder  if  you  can  write  down  the  name  of 
Ms  school,  which  later  so  famous  became? 

Ans 

86 


TENTH  STORY 

'^THE    BOY    WHO    SWEPT    THE 
CORNERS    CLEAN'' 

Last  Sunday  in  telling  you  about  how 
we  came  to  have  poor  negro  slaves  in 
America,  I  also  told  you  how  Abraham 
Lincoln  signed  a  paper  freeing  them  all, 
among  whom  were  a  little  boy  named 
Booker  and  his  mother. 

Although  they  were  free,  they  were 
terribly  poor,  so  when  Booker's  mother 
took  him  and  his  brother  and  sister  to 
another  town,  where  there  were  big  salt 
furnaces,  little  Booker  had  to  go  to 
work  in  these  furnaces.  It  was  hard 
disagreeable  work  for  such  a  small  boy, 
especially  as  he  often  had  to  begin  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  long  be- 
fore the  sun  was  up! 

All  this  time  there  was  just  one  thing 
Booker  wanted  more  than  anything  else 
in  the  whole  world.  I  wonder  if  you 
87 


88  Tenth  Story 

could  ever  guess!  You  might  think  it 
was  money,  since  he  was  so  poor!  Or 
nice  clothes,  since  he  had  such  shabby 
prickly  ones!  Or  plenty  to  eat,  since 
he  never  had  enough !  But  it  was  none 
of  these  things  he  wanted  ynost — but  oh ! 
how  he  did  want  to  learn  to  read. 

He  did  not  know  any  of  the  negro 
people  near  him  who  could  read  even 
a  word,  but  so  many  of  them  wanted  to, 
that  finally  a  small  school  was  opened, 
and  he  thought,  of  course,  he  could  go. 
But  no!  poor  Booker's  family  decided 
he  ought  to  keep  right  on  working  in 
the  salt  furnaces!  But  did  that  stop 
him? 

No  indeed!  For  he  took  lessons  at 
night.  I  should  think  he  would  have 
been  ever  so  sleepy,  but  do  you  know? 
He  actually  learned  more  at  night  than 
the  other  children  learned  during  the 
day.  So  finally  his  family  decided  that 
if  Booker  would  work  in  the  furnaces 
from  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  until 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  then  he 
could  go  to  school. 


Boy  Who  Swept  Comers  Clean     89 

I  must  tell  you  two  rather  funny 
things  that  happened  to  Booker,  al- 
though they  really  are  only  rather 
funny,  because  they  show  how  poor  he 
was.  For  when  he  went  to  school  with 
the  other  children  he  noticed  they  all 
wore  hats  or  caps,  and  he  had  never 
had  a  hat  or  a  cap  in  all  his  life !  He 
went  home  and  told  his  mother  he  really 
must  have  a  hat ;  but  she  had  no  money 
to  buy  a  *^ store  hat,"  so  what  do  you 
suppose  she  did?  She  took  two  pieces 
of  goods  and  sewed  them  together.  This 
made  a  very  curious-looking  cap;  but 
years  later  when  he  grew  up  and  could 
buy  any  kind  of  a  hat  he  needed,  he 
was  proud  to  remember  his  first  hat 
which  his  mother  had  sewed  for  him 
out  of  two  pieces  of  cloth. 

Then  when  he  got  to  school  he  found 
all  the  boys  had  two  names,  sometimes 
even  three  names,  which  the  teacher 
read  oil  when  he  called  the  roll.  But 
Booker  had  no  other  name  but  Booker, 
as  I  told  you  before.  So  all  the  time 
the  teacher  was  calling  off  the  other 


go  Tenth  Story 

names  he  was  wondering  what  in  the 
world  he  should  say  when  it  came  his 
turn.  But  when  the  teacher  finally 
said/ ^Booker,  what  is  your  full  name *?" 
he  had  a  bright  idea,  and  answered, 
^^ Booker  Washington,  sir!"  just  ex- 
actly as  if  he  had  always  had  two  names 
like  other  boys!  And  do  you  know? 
There  is  hardly  a  grown-up  person  any- 
where in  the  United  States  today  who 
does  not  know  the  name  Booker  Wash- 
ington ! 

You  see,  he  was  the  kind  of  boy  who 
had  made  up  his  mind  to  be  someone 
worth  while,  so  in  spite  of  being  poor 
and  wearing  queer  clothes  and  having 
no  name,  he  decided  he  just  must  have 
an  education.  So  one  day  he  said, 
^'goodbye''  to  his  family,  and  started 
oft*  for  a  school  called  Hampton  Insti- 
tute, which  is  almost  on  the  very  spot 
where  the  first  twenty  slaves  landed 
years  and  years  ago. 

Booker  Washington  had  to  walk  five 
Inmdred  miles  to  get  to  that  school,  he 
had  to  earn  money  all  along  the  way  to 


Boy  Who  Swept  Corners  Clean     91 

buy  his  meals,  he  had  to  sleep  in  the 
queerest  places !  Once  he  slept  for  sct- 
eral  nights  right  under  a  board  side- 
walk in  a  city  called  Richmond.  He 
could  hear  people  walking  over  him  all 
night  long,  people  who  never  dreamed 
there  was  a  hungry  tired  little  negro 
boy  sleeping  under  their  feet. 

Finally  he  could  get  to  the  school,  but 
he  was  so  tired  and  dusty  and  shabby 
that  the  teacher  hardly  liked  to  take 
such  an  unattractive  boy  into  the  school ! 
You  can  imagine  how  terribly  he  felt! 
To  have  spent  weeks  and  wrecks  walk- 
ing so  many  miles,  working  his  way, 
and  dreaming  beautiful  dreams  of 
school  days  —  then  to  be  turned  away. 
But  the  teacher  saw  how  heart-broken 
he  looked,  so  she  gave  him  one  chance. 

''The  recitation  room  needs  sweep- 
ing," she  said,  ''take  this  broom  and 
sweep  it." 

Well!  He  swept  that  room  once! 
And  he  swept  that  room  twice!  Then 
he  swept  it  the  third  time!  It  never 
had  been  so  clean  before !    Then  he  got 


92  Tenth  Story    . 

a  duster,  and  he  dusted  it  four  times, 
until  there  wasn't  a  single  speck  of 
dust  in  even  the  tiniest  corner.  Then 
he  called  in  the  teacher.  But  she 
couldn't  find  anything  wrong  there,  of 
course,  and  that  is  the  way  Booker 
Washington  entered  Hampton  Insti- 
tute. 

He  had  a  great  many  things  besides 
reading  and  writing  and  arithmetic  to 
learn !  He  had  to  learn  what  a  bath  tub 
was  for !  What  a  tooth  brush  was  for ! 
Even  what  sheets  on  a  bed  were  for! 
The  first  night  he  slept  under  both  the 
sheets ;  the  second  night  on  top  of  both 
of  them,  then  he  learned  to  sleep  be- 
tween them! 

He  worked  his  way  all  through  that 
school;  then  years  later  he  had  a  won- 
derful school  of  his  very  own  for  ne- 
groes, called  Tuskegee.  Everyone  in 
America  is  proud  of  the  boy  who  swept 
the  corners  clean! 


ELEVENTH  STORY 

f     Jesus  said:  "I  am  the  Good  Shepherd" 


■a 


THE  SMOKE  OF  A 
^THOUSAND  VILLAGES 


1.  Here  is  the  village  with  houses  so  queer.  What's 
the  name  of  the  big  one  where  Headmen  appear? 

Ans 

2.  What  do  they  do  when  a  baby  is  born?  And 
what  round  its  neck  do  they  think  should  be  worn? 

Ans 

3.  Name  some  of  the  things  for  which  there's  a 
charm  to  keep  each  scared  person  from  coming  to 
harm  ? 

An8 

4.  What  were  the  rest  of  the  words  that  he  spoke 
when  the  missionary  said,  "thousand  villages'  smoke?" 

AnB,  

93 


ELEVExNTH  STORY 

^^THE  SMOKE  OF  A  THOUSAND 
VILLAGES" 

To-day  I  am  going  to  take  you  over 
to  Africa,  where  two  Sundays  ago  I  told 
you  about  a  ship  called  the  Treasurer 
was  starting  for  America,  with  the  first 
twenty  poor  negro  slaves  on  board. 
Then  you  can  see  how  greatly  the  Good 
Shepherd  needs  our  help  in  bringing 
His  black  sheep  into  His  fold ! 

An  African  village  is  called  a 
^^ Kraal/'  it  is  built  of  the  queerest  lit- 
tle round  mud  huts,  with  thatched  roofs, 
that  you  ever  saw.  There  is  a  dusty 
road  down  the  middle  of  the  Kraal, 
with  the  round  huts  in  rows  on  each 
side  of  it,  then  at  the  end  of  the  village 
is  a  bigger  hut  called  the  Palaver-house 
where  the  men  of  the  village  sit  in  the 
shade  of  the  palm  trees  all  day  long, 
lazily  watching  their  busy  wives  out  in 

94 


•  The  Smoke  of  a  Thousand  Villages     95 

the  fields  ploughing  and  planting  in  the 
hot  sun,  while  the  smoke  of  the  village 
fires  curls  up  above  the  roof  tops. 

Around  the  entire  village  is  built  a 
stockade,  which  is  a  great  big  fence  to 
keep  out  wild  animals,  or  men  from 
other  villages  who  might  come  to  steal 
cows  or  sheep. 

In  one  of  these  dark  low  smoky  huts 
a  new  baby  has  just  been  born,  and  a 
crowd  of  delighted  grandmothers,  aunts 
and  cousins  are  crowded  inside  to  see 
it.  While  outside  on  the  dusty  road  the 
father  and  all  the  village  people  are 
beating  drums  and  making  all  the  noise 
they  can  to  drive  away  any  evil  spirits 
that  may  have  come  to  harm  the  pre- 
cious new  baby. 

You  would  be  surprised  to  see  the 
way  the  people  dress.  Perhaps  you  al- 
ready know  that  it  is  very  hot  in  Africa, 
so  hot  that  people  really  do  not  need  to 
wear  clothes  at  all.  The  children  don't 
wear  anything,  and  the  grown-people 
wear  only  skins  of  wild  animals  and 
dried  grass  or  a  piece  of  cloth  tied 


96  Eleventh  Story 

around  their  waists.  They  make  up 
for  having  few  clothes  by  wearing  great 
heavy  brass  necklaces  and  huge  iron 
bracelets,  and  by  tattooing  their  faces 
and  arms  in  all  sorts  of  queer  patterns, 
even  putting  a  color  in  the  cuts  to  make 
them  look  more  beautiful,  as  they  say ! 
They  wear  something  else  you  will  not 
be  able  to  understand:  one  man  wears 
the  claw  of  a  chicken  tied  around  his 
neck  by  a  string;  the  baby's  grand- 
mother has  a  lion's  tooth  tied  around 
her  arm ;  a  little  boy  has  a  few  feathers 
tied  around  his  waist — in  fact,  almost 
everybody  has  something  like  that  on 
him.  For  just  as  the  Chinese  people 
are  afraid  of  evil  spirits,  so  these  ne- 
groes in  Africa  are  afraid  of  the  evil 
spirits  who  live  in  everything,  they 
think:  in  the  trees,  the  air,  the  grass. 
The  chicken  claws,  feathers  and  the 
lion's  tooth  are  charms  to  please  the 
evil  spirits.  There  are  charms  for  all 
sorts  of  other  things  too — for  loving, 
hating,  buying,  selling,  fishing,  hunt- 
ing, traveling. 


The  Smoke  of  a  Thousand  Villages     97 

Everybody  calls  the  baby  ''Ndindo'' 
right  away,  a  word  which  really  means 
''Dirt''!  Perhaps  they  say  it  the  way 
we  sometimes  say  to  our  babies:  ^^You 
naughty  little  rascal !"  Of  course,  when 
he  gets  older  he  will  have  a  better  name, 
for  a  baby  is  very  precious  in  Africa, 
and  after  he  is  washed  in  cold  water  and 
dusted  over  with  a  queer  red  powder, 
they  tie  a  bundle  of  dried  grass  around 
his  neck  to  scare  away  the  evil  spirits. 

The  baby's  father,  whose  name  is 
''Njakii/'  (which  means  elephant)  is  a 
very  brave  hunter  of  elephants.  Be- 
cause he  was  a  heathen  he  did  not  feel 
the  way  you  and  I  feel  about  stealing 
or  killing  people,  for  one  day  as  he  sat 
in  the  Palaver-house  he  heard  his  baby 
crying.  He  smiled  at  the  other  men, 
and  said:  ''My  son  will  be  a  man  of 
courage,  he  will  not  fear  to  kill  his 
enemies  and  bring  home  their  skulls. 
Listen,  how  strong  his  voice  is!'' 

Of  course,  you  and  I  know  that  there 
are  no  such  things  as  evil  spirits,  we 
know  that  charms  are  perfect  foolish- 


98  Eleventh  Story 

ness,  and  that  killing  people  is  very 
wrong,  but  the  people  in  Africa  have 
not  heard  that  yet  because  there  are  not 
enough  missionaries  there  to  get  to  all 
these  people. 

Once  one  of  the  missionaries  went 
home  to  England,  and  told  about  an 
African  kraal,  the  wickedness,  the 
fears  of  the  people,  the  charms  they 
wear,  and  he  ended  with  these  words: 
**I  have  sometimes  seen  in  the  morning 
sun  the  smoke  of  a  thousand  villages 
where  no  missionary  has  ever  been ! ' ' 

One  young  man  in  the  audience  could 
just  see  those  thousand  villages,  he 
could  see  the  smoke  curling  up  over  the 
thatched  roofs,  and  he  said:  ^^I  am  go- 
ing to  let  God  use  me  in  Africa  to  bring 
the  black  sheep  into  His  fold!  I  am 
going  to  be  the  man  to  go  to  those  thous- 
and villages." 

So  away  he  sailed ;  and  on  the  steamer 
the  passengers  said:  ^^Mr.  Livingstone, 
have  you  never  heard  how  savage  the 
negroes  are?  We  are  afraid  they  will 
kill  you !    They  will  surely  rob  you,  and 


The  Smoke  of  a  Thousand  Villages    99 

they  don't  know  what  love  is,  so  how 
can  they  understand  your  story  about 
the  Good  Shepherd'?" 

''I  will  go  and  do  what  I  can!"  said 
young  Mr.  Livingstone,  which  was  a 
very  brave  answer,  as  I  am  sure  you 
think.  Next  Sunday  I  will  tell  you  just 
how  brave  he  was ! 


TWELFTH  STORY 
Jesus  said:  "I  am  the  Good  Shepherd" 

"A  TRUE  LION  STORY" 


1.  What    did    Livingstone    liave    to    learn    first    in 
order  to  find  what  the  negroes  need  worst? 


Ans. 


2.  Please  tell  of  the  lion  who  savagely  sprang  be- 
fore Mr.   Livingstone's  gun  could  go   "Bang!" 


Ans. 


3.  Write  down  other  ways  in  which  he  was  brave 
as  he  tried  negro  people  for  Jesus  to  save? 


Ans. 


4.  While  he  got  well  from  his  poor  broken  limb, 
tell  me  who  brought  lots  of  comfort  to  him? 

Ans 


ZOO 


TAVELFTH  STORY 

"A  TRUE  LION  STORY" 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  about  a  fine 
young  missionary  named  David  Living- 
stone, who  was  sailing  to  Africa,  be- 
cause another  missionary  had  told  him 
how  often  he  could  see  the  smoke  of  a 
thousand  villages  where  no  missionary 
had  ever  been.  Perhaps  you  remember 
how  the  passengers  on  the  boat  tried  to 
scare  him  by  telling  how  fierce  and  sav- 
age the  Africans  were,  how  they  thought 
nothing  of  killing  a  man  and  stealing  all 
his  goods.  But  God  had  given  David 
Livingstone  a  brave  heart,  so  he  landed 
in  Africa,  and  began  traveling  nearer 
and  nearer  those  thousand  villages. 

It  was  no  fun  to  travel  in  Africa,  for 
there  were  no  railroad  trains,  no  horses 
and  carriages,  and,  of  course,  no  auto- 
mobiles. A  great  deal  of  the  way  there 
was  not  even  a  road,  just  a  thin  little 

ZOI 


102  Twelfth  Story 

trail  through  the  jungle  where  the  grass 
was  worn  down  by  other  feet.  Giant 
trees  locked  their  branches  overhead, 
wild  animals  sneaked  stealthily  through 
the  tall  grass — grass  that  was  higher 
than  Mr.  Livingstone's  head,  grass 
where  great  poisonous  snakes  crawled 
silently !  Although  it  was  very  danger- 
ous, and  something  entirely  new  to  him, 
Mr.  Livingstone  followed  his  guides, 
two  wild-looking  black  men  who  wore 
no  clothes  and  carried  sharp  spears, 
until  finally  they  reached  the  very  vil- 
lage about  which  I  told  you  last  Sunday. 

Out  walked  the  fierce-looking  Head- 
man of  the  village  from  the  Palaver- 
house.  He  glared  at  Mr.  Livingstone 
and  growled  as  he  looked  him  all  over, 
then  Mr.  Livingstone  explained  by  signs 
that  he  had  come  to  live  in  this  vil- 
lage !  The  Headman  scowled  some  more, 
rather  fiercely,  but  finally  I  suppose  he 
thought  better  of  it,  for  he  called  over 
two  of  his  wives  and  said:  *^ Build  this 
white  man  a  house!'' 

And  if  you'll  believe  it,  in  half  an 


A  True  Lion  Story  103 

hour  the  house  was  actually  built !  One 
of  those  queer-looking  round  affairs, 
with  four  bamboo  poles  to  start  with, 
mud  sides  which  soon  dried  out  in  the 
hot  sun,  and  a  thatched  roof  made  of 
palm  leaves.  Into  this  Mr.  Livingstone 
carried  his  bundles  and  got  ready  to  tell 
this  first  village  about  the  Good  Shep- 
herd. 

But  he  did  not  know  a  word  of  the 
language,  and  there  was  no  book  telling 
him  about  it  either,  because  none  of  the 
negroes  could  read  or  w^rite,  so  this  is 
what  Mr.  Livingstone  had  to  do:  he 
would  hold  up  a  chicken  and  say 
''chicken"  in  English,  then  the  villagers 
would  say  their  word  for  chicken,  and  he 
would  write  it  down,  spelling  it  the  way 
it  sounded.  Then  he  would  try  to  find 
out  another  new  word  and  another,  until 
after  a  long  time  he  had  learned  enough 
words  to  talk  to  them  a  little.  Every- 
one was  interested  in  the  curious  things 
he  had,  for,  of  course,  they  had  never 
seen  a  mirror  before,  or  scissors,  or  a 
razor,  or  soap,  or  pins  and  needles,  or 


104  Twelfth  Story 

clothes  like  his,  and  often  they  would 
steal  into  his  hut  and  steal  his  things. 
Can't  you  just  imagine  how  lonely  he 
was — no  one  to  whom  he  could  talk  in 
English,  only  black  faces  to  look  at  day 
after  day  after  day?  He  had  to  keep 
house  and  do  his  own  cooking,  too,  and 
mend  his  own  clothes — things  that  took 
entirely  too  much  time  from  his  real 
true  work  of  telling  the  people  in  the 
village  about  Christ.  He  translated  the 
Bible  into  their  language,  and  night 
after  night  he  went  to  the  Palaver- 
house,  and  by  the  light  of  a  dim  lantern 
he  read  to  the  men  of  the  village  about 
Jesus — about  the  lost  sheep — about  the 
Good  Shepherd,  who  looked  and  looked 
until  he  found  it,  then  brought  it  home 
rejoicing. 

The  men  in  the  village  looked  at  each 
other  by  the  dim  light  of  the  lantern, 
and  said:  ^^The  Brother-from-over-the- 
sea  speaks  true  words.''  So  little  by 
little,  one  by  one,  they  were  beginning 
to  believe  his  story  of  Jesus,  but  he 
wished  there  could  be  some  white  wo- 


A  True  Lion  Story  105 

man  to  talk  in  the  same  way  to  the  wo- 
men and  children. 

Then  one  day  something  dreadful 
happened.  For  some  weeks  lions  had 
been  prowling  all  around  their  village, 
sometimes  killing  as  many  as  nine  sheep 
in  one  day.  Of  course,  nobody  was  safe, 
and  all  the  people  in  the  village  were 
scared.  So  the  brave  hunters  went  out 
with  spears  to  kill  the  lions,  and  Mr. 
Livingstone  went  with  them,  taking  his 
gun.  But  instead  of  Mr.  Livingstone 
killing  a  lion,  a  lion  almost  killed  him, 
for  it  sprang  out  at  him  from  behind 
a  bush  where  it  had  been  hiding.  It 
caught  him  by  the  shoulder,  shaking 
him  until  the  bones  in  his  arm  were  all 
crunched  and  broken,  and  the  flesh  ter- 
ribly torn ! 

He  was  so  sick,  and  the  villagers  were 
so  unable  to  take  proper  care  of  him, 
that  he  had  to  be  taken  two  hundred 
miles  away  to  Mr.  Moffat's  home  to  get 
well  there.  But  while  he  was  there  he 
fell  in  love  with  Mr.  Moffat's  daughter 
and  married  her.     So  when  he  came 


io6  Twelfth  Story 

back  to  his  old  village  with  his  wife,  he 
built  her  a  real  house,  and  they  planted 
a  pretty  garden,  and  at  last  there  was 
someone  to  go  into  those  other  huts  and 
tell  the  women  and  children  stories  of 
Jesus. 


THIRTEENTH  STORY 

Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Good  Shepherd" 

A  GIANT  QUESTION  MARK 
AND  A  GIANT  EAR" 


1.  Why  is   the   map   colored   so   black,   telling  ex- 
actly what  Africans  lack? 


Ans. 


2.  In   order  to   cure   a    person   who's   sick,   tell   of 
the  witch-doctor's  horrible  trick? 


Ans. 


3.  What  were  the  things  that  a  father  would  take 
in  exchange  for  his  daughter,  her  marriage  to  make? 


Ans. 


4.  What    is    the    question    the    map    seems    to    ask 
which  gives  missionaries  their  gigantic  task? 

Ans 

107 


THIRTEENTH  STORY 

^^  A  GIANT  QUESTION  MARK  AND 
A  GIANT  EAR" 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  liow  a  lion 
almost  killed  Mr.  Livingstone  by  chew- 
ing up  his  arm,  and  how,  while  his  arm 
vf  as  getting  well,  he  met  the  lady  whom 
he  finally  married,  and  brought  back  to 
his  own  village. 

If  I  talked  all  to-day,  and  all  to-mor- 
row and  all  the  next  day,  and  the  day 
after  that,  and  right  on  until  next  Sun- 
day, I  really  don't  believe  even  then  I 
could  finish  telling  you  the  wonderful 
things  Mr.  Livingstone  was  able  to  do 
for  Africa  during  the  years  he  lived 
there !  The  thousand  villages  which  he 
had  hoped  to  be  able  to  visit,  he  did  visit, 
telling  the  people  about  Jesus,  and  leav- 
ing many  a  little  new  church  behind 
him.  Sometimes  he  saw  white  men  tak- 
io8 


A  Giant  Question  Mark         109 

ing  black  men  for  slaves,  and  he  worked 
hard  to  put  a  stop  to  it. 

You  have  a  map  of  Africa  on  your 
take-home  cards  to-day.  I  want  you  to 
notice  three  things  about  the  map: 
(1).  That  it  is  black.  (2).  Can't  you 
see  that  the  shape  of  the  map  looks 
like  a  great  big  question  mark?  And 
(3).  Can't  you  also  see  how  the 
shape  of  Africa  is  very  much  like  a 
giant  ear — listening — listening — wait- 
ing— waiting — for  the  answer  to  its 
giant  question  mark? 

The  reason  our  maps  are  colored 
black  is  to  remind  us  that  the  people 
in  Africa  have  black  skins,  and  that 
their  beliefs  are  just  as  black  as  their 
skins!  You  already  know  from  what 
I  told  you  last  Sunday  about  how  these 
black  people  believe  in  evil  spirits  and 
wear  queer  little  bundles  called  charms 
around  their  necks,  but  now  let  me  tell 
you  what  happened  when  the  baby 
Ndindo  about  whom  I  have  told  you 
became  quite  ill.  The  anxious  parents 
sent  for  the  Witch-doctor,  a  wild-look- 


no  Thirteenth  Story 

ing  man  whose  face  was  entirely  cov- 
ered with  tattooing  and  paint ;  all  sorts 
of  bundles  and  charms  were  hanging 
around  his  neck,  and  he  had  a  rattle 
which  he  kept  shaking  all  the  time. 

Poor  little  Ndindo  began  crying  the 
minute  this  ugly  noisy  man  came  danc- 
ing into  their  hut,  waving  his  arms  and 
foaming  at  the  mouth.  He  gave  the 
baby  no  medicine,  but  he  danced  round 
it  faster  and  faster!  The  neighbors 
came  and  stood  around  watching  him 
dance  faster-  and  faster.  Suddenly  he 
stopped  before  a  young  woman.  '^Yoii 
did  it!''  he  screamed,  pointing  his  finger 
at  her,  ^^you  bewitched  this  baby!" 

*^]Sro!  No!''  cried  the  young  woman, 
but  what  she  said  really  didn't  matter 
at  all,  because  everybody  there  thought 
that  sickness  came  from  being  be- 
witched by  evil  spirits,  and  the  only 
way  to  cure  a  sick  person  was  to  punish 
the  one  who  did  the  bewitching.  Tt 
was  the  Witch-doctor's  job  to  find  the 
guilty  person,  and  to  prove  whether  she 
was  guilty  or  not  he  gave  her  some  sass- 


A  Giant  Question  Mark         iii 

wood  poison !  If  she  died  after  taking 
it,  then  she  was  guilty,  but  if  she  lived 
in  spite  of  the  poison  then  she  was  inno- 
cent. Mr.  and  Mrs.  Livingstone  knew 
this  way  of  doing  things  was  all  dread- 
ful nonense — and  oh !  how  hard  they  did 
work  and  talk  to  stop  the  cruel  poison- 
ing! 

Another  thing  that  the  Livingstones 
hated  to  see  was  a  father  selling  his 
daughter  to  the  man  she  was  to  marry. 
The  father  would  take  so  many  goats 
and  brass  rods  and  glass  beads  in  ex- 
change for  his  little  girl,  maybe  even 
a  cow  if  she  were  really  very  pretty! 
That  is  because  the  Africans  think  wo- 
men are  not  any  better  than  animals, 
and  a  father  thought  no  more  of  selling 
his  daughter  than  of  selling  his  goat  or 
his  chickens.  They  have  a  proverb  in 
Africa  which  says:  ^^A  wife  is  worth 
six  ploughs,"  and  Mrs.  Livingstone 
spent  many  a  day  telling  them  the 
Christian  way — that  God  who  made 
everybody,  cares  just  exactly  as  much 
for  women  as  for  men. 


112  Thirteenth  Story 

So  little  by  little,  one  by  one,  these 
black  people  began  to  become  Chris- 
tians. Hard  as  it  was  they  gave  up 
wearing  their  queer  charms,  and  trusted 
God  to  take  care  of  them.  Every  time 
you  see  a  map  of  Africa  I  want  you  to 
remember  how  much  it  looks  like  a 
giant  question  mark,  and  the  question 
in  every  one  of  their  black  minds  was : 
'^How  can  I  be  safe  from  evil  spirits?'' 
The  only  answer  the  Witch-doctors  had 
was:  '^Try  w^earing  this  new  charm 
around  your  neck — it  will  protect  you ! ' ' 
But  the  missionaries  had  a  better  an- 
swer for  the  great  listening  ear  of 
Africa:  ^'God  is  love.    Trust  Him/' 

Another  reason  why  your  maps  of 
Africa  are  black  is  to  remind  you  that 
when  Mr.  Livingstone  went  there  to  live 
no  one  knew  anything  about  the  geo- 
graphy of  the  country.  No  white  man 
had  ever  dared  to  explore  it,  because 
traveling  in  Africa  was  so  dangerous. 
But  David  Livingstone  was  just  as 
great  an  explorer  as  he  was  a  mission- 
ary, he  really  was  both  things  at  once! 


A  Giant  Question  Mark         113 

He  traveled  over  29,000  miles  discover- 
ing tremendous  lakes,  rivers  and  water 
falls  which  no  white  man  had  ever  seen 
before.  He  took  two  black  men  with 
him,  and  once  after  he  had  been  in 
Africa  for  many  years  he  was  spending 
the  night  in  a  lonely  hut  far  away  in 
the  interior  of  Africa. 

In  the  morning  these  two  black  men 
came  into  his  hut  to  wake  him,  when 
they  saw  him  kneeling  by  his  bed,  so 
they  tiptoed  out,  knowing  he  was  pray- 
ing to  the  great  God.  But  an  hour  later 
when  they  came  back  again,  he  was  still 
kneeling  there,  and  they  found  that 
while  he  had  been  praying,  he  had  died. 
Once  these  black  men  would  have  stolen 
Mr.  Livingstone's  treasures  and  rushed 
away  in  fear,  afraid  of  evil  spirits.  But 
they  were  Christians  now,  and  I  thought 
you  would  like  to  know  that  these 
friends  of  Mr.  Livingstone's  tenderly 
wrapped  his  body  round  and  round  with 
the  soft  inside  bark  of  some  trees, 
and  carried  it  day  after  day  after  day 
on  their  shoulders  5,000  miles  to  the  sea- 


114  Thirteenth  Story 

coast,  so  that  the  body  could  be  sent 
back  to  England  where  ever3^one  was  so 
proud  of  this  brave  white  man. 

I  love  this  story !  I  love  to  remember 
how  David  Livingstone  could  take  fear 
out  of  the  hearts  of  those  black  Africans 
and  put  the  love  of  God  there  instead, 
and  I  like  best  of  all  to  know  that  all 
over  Africa  there  are  missionaries  do- 
ing the  very  same  thing  this  minute ! 


FOURTEENTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:  "The  Lily  of  the  Valley" 

JACK  AND  JILL  WENT  UP  THE 
HILL 


1.  What  were  the  things  Jack  and  Jill  never  had— 
plain  every-day  things  to  a  town  lass  and  lad? 

Ans '    •  ' 

2.  What    famous    man    once    lived    that    w^ay    too.' 
Lacking  all  comforts — please  tell  me   who? 

Ans 

3.  In   sunbonnet,   patched  dress,   her  shoes  in  her 
hand  where  did   Jill  walk,   feeling   quite  grand? 

4.  Wliat  were  the  things   Jill  learned  how  to  do 
things  that  to   Jill  seemed  wonderfully   new? 

Ans 

"5 


FOURTEENTH  STORY 

'^JACK    AND    JILL    WENT    UP 
THE    HILL'' 

A  GREAT  many  years  before  Jesus 
lived  here  among  men,  a  very  wise  man 
told  how  some  day  Jesus  was  coming 
and  said,  that  He  would  be  like  the 
^^Lily  of  the  Valley.''  Perhaps  he  did 
not  mean  just  exactly  the  kind  of  lily 
you  and  I  call  by  that  name,  for  he  lived 
far  across  the  sea  in  a  land  called  Syria, 
but  lilies  are  lilies  wherever  they  grow, 
and  I  love  to  think  that  Jesus  really  is 
like  our  own  beautiful  lily  of  the  valley. 
This  is  the  time  of  the  year  when  we  can 
see  them  starting  to  grow  in  our  back 
yards,  making  their  shady  corner  very 
sweet  and  pure  and  beautiful.  For  that 
is  what  Jesus  does  when  He  lives  in  men 
and  women,  or  in  boys  and  girls.  He 
makes  even  the  corners  of  their  lives 
pure    and    sweet    and    beautiful.     At 

ii6 


Jack  and  Jill  Went  up  the  Hill     117 

Easter  time  we  especially  like  to  re- 
member these  things,  so  this  month  I 
have  a  story  for  you  about  some  lonely 
valleys  hidden  in  a  big  corner  of  Amer- 
ica where  our  missionaries  are  making 
the  Lily  of  the  Valley  grow. 

I  wonder  how  you  would  like  to  have 
a  mountain  sitting  in  your  back  yard'? 
And  another  big  mountain  sitting  in 
your  front  yard  *?  And  more  mountains 
scattered  all  around  the  other  sides  of 
your  houses? 

''But  how  could  I  have  any  neigh- 
bors T'  you  ask,  ''and  where  would  the 
streets  heV 

Well,  you  couldn't  have  neighbors 
and  there  wouldn't  be  streets,  for  every- 
body's else  house  would  have  mountains 
sitting  around  in  their  front  and  back 
yards,  too;  so  if  you  wanted  to  get  to 
them  you  would  have  to  climb  up  the 
hills  and  down  the  hills. 

This  is  going  to  be  a  story  about  a 
boy  called  Jack  and  his  sister  called  Jill 
who  live  here  in  America,  in  the  State 
of   Kentucky,   with  mountains   every- 


ii8  Fourteenth  Story 

where  around  them.  They  lived  in  a 
log  cabin,  the  very  same  kind  of  a  house 
that  Abraham  Lincoln  lived  in  when  he 
was  a  small  boy.  A  cabin  where  the 
logs  were  so  far  apart  that  the  wind 
and  the  rain  could  blow  right  through, 
where  the  mother  did  all  the  cooking  in 
an  open  fireplace  which  smoked,  and 
smoked,  and  smoked,  in  the  most  dis- 
mal, distressing  way.  There  really 
wasn't  a  single  nice  thing  about  the  log 
cabin  where  Jack  and  Jill  lived — there 
weren't  beds  enough,  nor  chairs  enough, 
nor  dishes  enough,  nor  shoes  enough  to 
go  around  in  the  family ;  there  were  no 
books  anywhere,  for  nobody  could  read 
a  single  word ;  there  was  no  wall-paper 
on  the  wall,  and  no  pictures,  there  was 
not  even  any  inlaster  on  the  walls.  As 
for  pianos,  sewing  machines,  and  elec- 
tric lights  they -were  simply  unheard  of 
in  those  mountains.  Thev  used  tallow 
candles  which  their  mother  made,  and 
on  winter  evenings  she  often  spun  yarn 
on  a  spinning  wheel  exactly  the  way 
Abraham  Lincoln's  mother  did.    There 


Jack  and  Jill  Went  up  the  Kill     119 

was  no  running  water  in  the  log  cabin, 
so  this  Jack  and  Jill  often  had  to  go 
up  the  hill  to  fetch  a  pail  of  water,  ex- 
actly like  the  Jack  and  Jill  in  the 
nursery  rhyme  who  fell  down  and  broke 
their  crowns!  Our  Jack  and  Jill  had 
to  chop  up  wood  for  the  fireplace, — you 
have  a  picture  of  them  lugging  it  home 
up  the  hill.  The  other  boy  is  their 
younger  brother. 

When  people  can't  read,  and  have  no 
near  neighbors,  and  have  nothing  at- 
tractive in  their  homes  they  are  really 
very  unhappy.  The  children  can't  be 
the  bright  sparkly  kind  that  are  merry 
and  chipper  all  day  long.  Somehow, 
fetching  pails  of  water,  chopping  wood, 
working  in  the  stony  vegetable  gar- 
dens, washing  clothes  in  the  mountain 
streams,  making  butter,  curing  hams 
and  milking  cows,  having  all  work  and 
no  play,  made  Jack  a  dull  boy !  As  for 
Jill,  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  she 
really  seemed  awfully  slow  and  stupid 
and  heavy.  She  turned  out  all  right, 
by  and  by,  but  she  hardly  ever  smiled 


120  Fourteenth  Story 

the  way  girls  do — just  because  they 
can't  help  it,  they're  so  brimful  of 
smiles!  Nobody  smiled  much  in  the 
mountains.  The  mothers  were  always 
tired,  and  the  fathers  were,  too.  They 
looked  as  if  their  sagging  shoulders 
were  saying:  ^*0h,  what's  the  use?" 

But  we  have  a  school  of  our  very  own 
up  there  in  the  Kentucky  mountains 
where  Jill  went  to  school  for  one  year. 
She  had  to  walk  about  twenty  miles  to 
get  up,  in  her  bare  feet,  too,  for  she 
carried  her  precious  shoes  in  her  hand 
to  save  them.  She  wore  a  sunbonnet 
and  a  patched  dress.  Even  after  she 
got  to  the  nice  school  she  never  smiled. 
She  just  seemed  stupid, — she  really 
seemed  to  forget  more  than  she  learned, 
poor  dear,  at  least  so  her  teachers 
thought.  The  girls  did  everything  there 
was  to  do  in  the  building,  cooking,  dish- 
washing, bed-making,  cleaning — things 
Jill  never  knew  people  took  real  pains 
to  do  neatly.  '*Any  old  way"  seemed 
to  suit  Jill.  She  never  said,  *^ please" 
or  ^^ thank  you,"  because  nobody  in  her 


Jack  and  Jill  Went  up  the  Hill     121 

home  ever  did  any  of  those  nice  neat 
lovely  things  that  make  a  home  a  home. 

But  Jill  did  the  best  she  could,  and 
down  in  her  heart  something  was  be- 
ginning to  grow  that  did  not  show  very 
plainly  yet — just  a  little  seed  of  love 
and  happiness.  I  think  it  must  have 
been  the  Lily  of  the  Valley  in  the  lonely 
corner  of  her  heart,  don't  you?  Any- 
way, when  the  year  of  school  was  over, 
she  trudged  the  long  twenty  miles  home, 
up  hill  and  down  hill,  and  she  said  to 
her  mother:  ^*I'm  powerful  set  on  go- 
ing back  to  school  next  year,  mammy, 
I  allows  I  kin  earn  money  pickin'  ber- 
ries and  sellin'  'em  at  the  crossroads." 

*^ Course  yer  kin!"  said  her  mother. 
So  well  leave  her  today,  picking  ber- 
ries! 


FIFTEENTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:  "The  Lily  of  the  Valley" 

WHEN    PATCHES    ARE 
BEAUTIFUL 


IJ^^^^^J^ 


1.  What  did  Jill  do  some  money  to  earn  so  she 
could  go  to  our  school  and  learn? 

Ans 

2.  What  did  the  teacher  say  to  poor  Jill  when  next 
she  walked  schoolwards  far  over  the  hills? 

Ans 

3.  In  the  Bible  Jill  read  Someone  Else  found  no 
room.  Who  was  it  Who  scattered  her  dull  dreary 
gloom  ? 

Ans 

4.  What  wonderful  thing  did  Jill  do  with  her  mo- 
ney that  made  all  her  life  seem  cheerful  and  sunny? 

Ans 

122 


FIFTEENTH  STORY 

*^WHEN    PATCHES    ARE 
BEAUTIFUL'^ 

Last  Sunday  we  left  Jill  picking  ber- 
ries to  earn  enough  money  to  go  back 
to  school  the  following  year.  But  mo- 
ney is  very  hard  to  earn  in  the  moun- 
tains, and  pennies  have  the  slowest  kind 
of  a  way  of  piling  up  into  dollars.  So 
that  when  it  was  time  for  school  to  be- 
gin again,  way  over  the  hills,  Jill  felt 
she  had  not  saved  nearly  enough  mo- 
ney. She  worked  and  worked  and 
worked  for  three  weeks  more ;  then  her 
mother  helped  by  selling  a  very  beau- 
tiful patch-work  quilt  she  had  made 
years  before.  So  that  gave  Jill  twelve 
dollars,  and  that  morning  she  rolled 
her  few  clothes  into  a  little  bundle,  put 
on  her  old  sunbonnet,  and  carried  her 
precious  shoes  to  save  them. 

^^ Good-bye,  mammy!"  she  said,  ^^I'm 
123 


124  Fifteenth  Story 

powerful  'bliged  to  you  for  helpin'  me 
tlus  way.'' 

Twenty  miles  is  a  long  way  up  hill 
and  down  hill,  up  hill  and  down  hill, 
especially  in  bare  feet  over  stony  roads. 
Jill  had  to  stay  over  night  with  a  family 
half  way  on  her  trip.  But  early  the 
next  morning  she  was  off  again.  By 
and  by  she  came  in  sight  of  the  precious 
school ! 

She  sat  down  on  a  stone  beside  the 
road  and  put  on  her  shoes,  she  shook 
the  dust  from  her  patched  calico  dress 
and  straightened  her  sunbonnet.  Some- 
thing very  happy  began  to  sing  in  her 
heart:  ^^I'm  most  there  now!  Oh  how 
nice  school  is!" 

But  in  the  window  of  the  school  stood 
two  of  the  teachers.  One  of  them  said : 
^^Oh  dear!  Oh  dear!  Isn't  that  poor  lit- 
tle Jill  coming  up  the  road?" 

The  other  teacher  looked:  ^^Oh,  I  do 
hope  it  isn't — but  yes !  yes !  It  certainly 
is!  Oh  poor  little  Jill!  What  shall  we 
do'?  There  isn't  an  inch  of  room  left 
anywhere  in  the  whole  school  by  this 


When  Patches  are  Beautiful      125 

time.    What  made  her  so  late  ?    I  sup- 
posed she  wasn't  coming/' 

Then  the  other  teacher  said:  ''I  never 
even  supposed  she  cared  enough  to  come 
back.  She  always  seemed  so  stupid  and 
slow.  I  dare  say  the  poor  little  thing 
has  forgotten  the  little  bit  she  learned 
last  year!'' 

By  this  time  the  smiling  Jill  was  in- 
side the  school,  shaking  their  hands  in 
her  awkward  country  way. 

''I  done  come  back!"  she  exclaimed 
smiling.  ^^I  didn't  git  here  at  first, 
'cause  I  stays  to  earn  some  money,  see  *? 
Laws,  but  I  works  hard  all  summer- 
but  here  it  is,  twelve  dollars.  Mammy 
sold  her  patch-work  quilt  so  I  could 
have  the  money.  Here,  you  take  it, 
'taint  nearly  enough  to  pay  for  all  the 
fine  learnin'  you  gimme." 

Then  one  of  our  teachers  cried,  while 
the  other  explained  to  Jill  that  there 
wasn't  any  room  left.  They  hadn't 
dreamed  she  even  wanted  to  come  back, 
so  by  this  time  every  single  tiniest  bit 
of  room  had  been  taken. 


126  Fifteenth  Story 

Poor  Jill!  I  just  love  her  for  try- 
ing to  smile  once  more,  don't  you'?  Al- 
though, of  course,  we  know  that  all  the 
nice  happiness  in  her  heart  was  now  as 
heavy  as  a  stone.  They  begged  her  to 
stay  to  dinner  before  she  started  the 
long  walk  home. 

^^I  ain't  a  bit  hungry,"  she  said 
slowly,  *^so  I'll  just  walk  along.  Good- 
bye. I  know  it  ain't  your  fault  the 
rooms  is  all  jamfull.  I  jest  couldn't 
git  here  sooner. ' ' 

So  away  she  walked.  One  teacher 
cried,  but  the  other  one  felt  all  hot  in- 
side and  her  eyes  flashed.  ^^How  I  wish 
I  could  put  your  two  big  heartaches  in 
the  middle  of  some  great  rich  church ! ' ' 
she  said ;  and  I  wish  she  could  have  done 
it,  don't  you'?  For  surely  no  one  who 
had  money  could  bear  to  think  of  poor 
little  disappointed  Jill  trudging  all 
those  weary  miles  back  home,  without 
wanting  to  help  her. 

I  don't  mind  whispering  to  you  that 
when  she  got  out  of  sight  of  the  school, 
ghe  threw  herself  down  on  the  ground, 


When  Patches  are  Beautiful      127 

and  cried  as  if  her  heart  would  break, 
^ust  as  you  or  I  would  have  done! 

The  next  day  when  she  got  back  to 
her  lonely  log  cabin  home,  her  mother 
said:  ''Why  Jill,  what  brung  you 
backr' 

''Oh  mammy,''  she  said,  "they  could- 
n't take  me,  the  school  was  plum  full." 

Her  mother  saw  how  red  her  eyes 
were,  and  how  tired  she  looked.  "Well, 
all  I've  got  to  say  is — it  were  a  long 
tromp  for  nothin'.  'Pears  like  they 
might  have  waited  for  you." 

"No,  'tain't  their  fault,  mammy,  I 
never  said  nothin'  'bout  comin'  back." 

That  night  by  the  firelight  Jill  read 
her  little  Bible,  and  a  tiny  bit  of  happi- 
ness stole  back  into  her  heart.  For  she 
read  that  thej:*e  hadn't  always  been  room 
for  Jesus,  either,  when  He  was  here 
among  men. 

"I  reckon  Jesus  knows  jest  how  I 
feel,"  she  whispered  to  herself  as  she 
fell  asleep. 

The  next  morning  when  she  looked  at 


128  Fifteenth  Story 

the  twelve  precious  dollars,  she  had  a 
wonderful  idea. 

*^ Mammy,"  she  said,  ^'I'm  powerful 
set  on  usin'  this  patch-work  and  berry- 
money  to  give  school  to  somebody  some- 
ways.  'Twon't  be  nothin^  but  patches 
of  learnin'  I  kin  give  'em,  but  I  can't 
keep  this  here  money  for  myself. ' ' 

*^I  reckon  you  kin  do  as  you  like  with 
it,"  her  mother  said. 

So  Jill  decided  to  start  a  little  school 
of  her  own  for  the  boys  and  girls  from 
the  other  log  cabins.  Perhaps  you  will 
think  it  a  queer  school  when  I  tell  you 
about  it  next  Sunday,  but  I  think  her 
little  patches  of  learning  were  really 
beautiful ! 


SIXTEENTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:  "The  Liily  of  the  Valley" 

THIS  IS  THE  HOUSE  THAT 
JACK  BUILT 


1.  What  did  Jack  do  in  the  school-house  for  Jill 
to  make  things  to  sit  on,  and  keep  out  the  chill? 

Ans 

2.  Why   did  Jill   say  she  must  have   a   flag,   even 
if  she  made  it  from  many  a  rag? 

Ans 

3.  When  our  very  own  teacher  taught  Jill's  school 
one  day,  what  did  Jill's  pupils  actually  say? 

Ans 

129 


SIXTEENTH  STORY 

^'THIS    IS    THE    HOUSE    THAT 
JACK    BUILT '^ 

Do  you  remember  last  Smiday  how 
dear  stupid  Jill  decided  to  start  a  school 
of  her  very  own  near  her  home,  after 
she  found  there  was  no  room  for  her  in 
our  school  way  over  the  hilH 

Of  course,  when  I  said,  ^^dear  stupid 
Jill,"  I  meant  that  was  the  way  she 
really  seemed  on  the  outside,  to  the 
teachers  who  taught  her.  But  you  will 
see  in  a  minute  that  she  had  lots  of  good 
ideas  tucked  away  up  her  calico  sleeves ! 

She  really  could  hardly  have  had  the 
school  if  it  had  not  been  for  Jack.  Tlie 
little  old  log  cabin  she  was  going  to  use 
for  a  school  was  almost  falling  to  pieces, 
and  Jack  built  it  up  for  her.  He  filled 
in  the  chinks  with  earth  where  the  logs 
were  sprung  apart.  He  made  a  new 
130 


House  That  Jack  Built  131 

door.  He  nailed  u]^  the  sides.  The 
chimney  was  all  caved  in,  so  he  piled 
up  stone  on  stone,  very  neatly,  both  in- 
side and  outside.  He  chopped  wood  for 
the  fire,  he  made  the  benches  from  logs, 
and  a  table  for  the  ^^ Teacher,''  too! 
The  day  before  the  school  was  to  begin 
Jack  and  Jill  went  up  the  hill  to  see 
this  ^^ House  that  Jack  Built.'' 

*^I  reckon  it  looks  fine,  Jack,"  Jill 
said. 

Then .  she  did  something  that  Jack 
called  ^^plum  crazy!"  She  went  out- 
side and  picked  a  branch  off  a  maple 
tree,  with  lovely  red  leaves  all  over  it. 
She  had  an  old  broken  jar  under  her 
arm,  and  she  put  the  branch  in  the  jar 
and  set  it  on  the  table  Jack  built. 

*^Now  what's  that  fer?"  Jack  asked. 
^^You  must  be  plum  crazy!" 

Jill  smiled.  *'I  learned  that  over  to 
the  big  school.  Teacher  said  God  made 
the  trees  beautiful  fer  us  to  love.  I 
reckon  I  never  thought  'bout  trees  be- 
fore. But  over  there  they  had  things 
like  this  settin'  around  everywhere  to 


132  Sixteenth  Story 

remind  us  how  careful  God  made  every- 
thing. ' ' 

Jack  looked  at  the  leaves  and  grinned. 
^^  Looks  awful  silly  to  me  to  bring  trees 
into  the  house,  but  if  they  does  it  over 
to  the  big  school,  you  bet  we'll  do  it 
here!'' 

Then  Jill  said:  ^^Oh  Jack,  I  com- 
pletely forgot,  we  ain't  got  no  flag!" 

^^ What's  a  flag?"  asked  Jack.  ^^I 
never  heard  tell  of  one  before." 

Which  just  shows  you  how  far  off 
everything  these  mountain  Americans 
are !  Jill  explained  that  over  at  the  big 
school  there  was  a  red,  white  and  blue 
flag  which  everybody  saluted  once  a  day 
to  show  they  loved  their  country.  *'I 
can't  have  no  school,  if  there  ain't  no 
flag,"  she  cried. 

*^Then  let's  make  one,"  said  Jack,  **I 
reckon  if  you  seen  one  onct,  you  kin 
make  one  easy — like." 

So  Jack  and  Jill  ran  down  the  hill  to 
find  some  pieces  of  red,  white  and  blue. 
Such  queer  little  jjieces  of  colored  calico 
as  they  put  together!    Red  and  white 


House  That  Jack  Built  133 

stripes,  to  be  sure,  with  a  big  blue 
square  in  the  corner,  but  oh !  such  funny 
stars!  Only  three  of  them,  and  none 
the  same  size,  and  one  of  them  had 
seven  points !  But  it  didn't  really  mat- 
ter a  bit,  of  course,  for  after  they  had 
fastened  it  on  a  long  twig,  Jill  taught 
Jack  to  put  out  his  arm  and  say,  *^I 
pledge  allegiance, ' '  just  exactly  as  3^ou 
and  I  say  it. 

The  next  day,  scared  shy  little  girls 
and  awkward  bashful  boys  came  walk- 
ing into  the  House  that  Jack  built,  and 
sat  on  the  benches  he  had  made.  Jill 
did  Vv^hat  she  could  to  teach  them  what 
she  remembered  about  A  B  C's,  and 
how  to  count  and  how  to  read.  She 
taught  them  how  to  salute  the  flag,  how 
to  love  the  flowers  they  had  never 
thought  of  even  looking  at  before.  She 
told  them  God  made  flowers  specially 
for  people  to  love.  She  always  ended 
the  day  by  telling  them  a  story  about 
what  Jesus  did  when  He  was  here 
among  men. 

Twelve  dollars  never  lasts  forever, 


134  Sixteenth  Story 

and  one  day  Jill  wrote  a  letter  to  one 
of  her  teachers  at  our  Mission  School 
way  over  the  hills,  telling  about  the  tiny 
school  she  had  started.  She  said  she 
could  only  give  little  patches  of  learn- 
ing, because  she  didn^t  know  very  much 
herself,  but  if  the  teacher  could  only 
spare  her  some  books  and  some  Bibles 
she  could  do  better.  There  were  onl}^ 
two  Bibles  in  all  that  neighborhood. 

The  teacher  in  our  school  sent  her  a 
box  full  of  splendid  things,  and  several 
weeks  later  the  teacher  herself  came 
over  the  hills  on  horseback  to  pay  Jill 
a  visit.  The  day  was  very  warm  and 
pleasant,  so  Jill  had  all  her  school  out- 
doors. The  little  House  that  Jack  built 
was  almost  too  crowded  for  her  school, 
it  had  grown  so  large.  When  our  mis- 
sionary came  up,  Jill  was  almost  too 
happy  for  words.  But  finally  she  said : 
' '  Oh  teacher,  now  my  poor  scholars  will 
have  somebody  to  tell  them  things  right. 
I  could  only  give  them  little  patches  of 
learnin'.'' 

So  our  missionary  began  talking,  and 


House  That  Jack  Built  135 

several  women  from  nearby  log  cabins 
came  over  to  listen,  and  a  few  men  from 
the  corn  fields  came  over,  too.  As 
they  listened  the  nicest  thing  happened. 
Somebody  spoke  up: 

**0h  yes !  that's  just  what  Jill  told  us, 
Miss." 

Then  by  and  by  somebody  else  said: 
*^  Why  I  reckon  that's  just  what  Jill  has 
kept  tellin'  us  over  and  over." 

So  after  our  missionary  had  seen  the 
scholars  salute  the  dear  little  home- 
made calico  flag  as  they  left  for  their 
homes  over  the  hills,  our  missionary 
went  into  the  House  that  Jack  built  and 
put  her  arm  around  Jill.  She  promised 
her  that  another  year  there  would  be  a 
a  place  saved  for  her  in  our  school,  for 
down  in  her  heart  she  knew  that  instead 
of  being  stupid  and  dull,  Jill  had  really 
been  more  wide-awake  than  anyone 
dreamed,  during  her  one  year  at  school. 


SEVENTEENTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:  "The  Lily  of  the  Valley" 

JACK   THE   GIANT-KILLER 


-U 


--^ 


1.  In  our  very  own  school  what  were  aids  to  make 
any  boy  a  Jack-of-all-trades? 

Ans 


2.  When  Jack's  mother  fell  ill  where  was  she 
taken?  Don't  you  hate  to  think  how  her  stretcher 
was  shaken? 


Ans. 


3.  What  Avere  the  giants  that  Jack  always  found 
in  the  rooms  of  our  Hospital,  stalking  around? 


Ans. 


i 


m 


136 


SEVENTEENTH  STORY 

^'JACK    THE    GIANT-KILLER" 

When  Jill  went  back  to  our  Mission 
School  in  the  Kentucky  Mountains  she 
did  not  go  alone,  for  this  time  it  was 
Jack  and  Jill  who  went  up  the  hills  to- 
gether, and  down  the  hills  together  until 
they  came  to  Annville  where  our  School 
is. 

Jill  had  a  place  all  waiting  for  her  in 
the  girls'  dormitory,  and  if  I  talked 
until  to-morrow  I  couldn't  begin  to  tell 
you  how  she  loved  every  minute  in 
school.  The  girls  were  busy  from  morn- 
ing till  night,  cooking,  sweeping,  clean- 
ing, studying.  But  to-day  I  thought 
maybe  you  would  be  more  interested  to 
know  about  Jack.  Since  by  this  time 
we  ought  to  feel  pretty  certain  that  Jill 
will  turn  out  all  right ! 

One  fine  thing  about  our  school  at 
Annville  is  that  it  teaches  boys  how  to 
do  things — real  things,  I  mean !  There 
137 


138  Seventeenth  Story 

were  acrec  and  acres  of  fields  to  be 
ploughed,  vegetables  to  be  cared  for, 
cows  to  be  milked,  furniture  to  be  made, 
horses  to  be  shoeed — in  fact,  so  many 
things  to  be  learned  that  Jack  felt  he 
wanted  to  be  a  ^^Jack-of -all-trades,''  he 
simply  couldn't  choose  what  he  wanted 
to  do  most  when  he  grew  up. 

One  day  his  favorite  teacher  asked 
him  about  it,  and  Jack  grinned  as  he 
answered:  ^^I  reckon  I  can't  tell  yet. 
When  I  first  come,  I  thought  I  jest 
wanted  to  build  things.  Then  when  I 
seen  what  fine  crops  you-all  raises,  I 
says  that's  what  I'll  do,  I'll  be  a  farmer 
— but  laws!  I  kept  a  changin'  and 
a  changin',  until  now  I  jest  wants  to 
do  somethin'  big  and  hard  what  needs 
to  be  done  turrible  bad  by  somebody, 
only  nobody  does  it — see?" 

I  like  that  in  Jack !  When  boys  don't 
think  much,  they  want  to  do  what  ^^all 
the  other  fellows  do,"  but  here  was  Jack 
wanting  to  do  what  no  body  else  was 
willing  to  do,  provided  it  was  hard. 
Only  he  couldn't  decide  ivJiat,  yet! 


Jack  the  Giant-killer  13$ 

When  vacation  time  came  Jack  and 
Jill  went  up  the  hills  and  down  the  hills 
once  more,  on  their  long  walk  back  to 
the  little  log  cabin.  When  they  got 
home  they  found  their  frail  little  mother 
very  sick  in  bed.  She  w^as  in  terrible 
pain,  she  said  something  ached  her  all 
up  and  down  inside.  It  had  been  like 
that  for  weeks  now. 

Jack  said :  '^I  reckon  I'll  jest  go  down 
the  road  a  piece  and  borrer  a  horse,  so 
as  I  kin  ride  over  the  hills  to  fetch  a 


nurse." 


Perhaps  you  did  not  know  that  you 
and  I  have  a  nurse  up  there  in  the  Ken- 
tucky mountains,  in  fact,  we  have  a 
doctor  and  a  hospital,  too,  although 
Jack  did  not  know  about  that,  then. 

When  our  nurse  got  to  the  log  cabin 
she  found  the  mother  very  sick  indeed, 
so  sick  that  nothing  but  an  operation  in 
the  hospital  could  ever  help  her.  It 
seemed  almost  impossible  to  get  her  to 
the  hospital,  so  many  miles  away,  since 
she  could  not  stand  being  jarred  in  a 
wagon.    So  Jack's  father  said  it  simply 


140  Seventeenth  Story 

couldn't  be  clone,  but  Jack  said:  ''We'll 
make  a  stretcher  and  carry  her,  she's 
nothin'  but  a  handful  now.  Ain't  we 
both   got   muscles — say,    just   look   at 


minel" 


So  they  made  a  stretcher  and  carried 
her  mile  after  mile  over  the  hills  to  our 
Hospital.  Jack  and  Jill  were  used  to 
neat  white  iron  beds  at  school,  of  course, 
but  their  mother  knew  very  little  about 
such  things  and  she  sank  into  the  hos- 
pital bed  with  a  sigh  of  relief.  Jack 
never  forgot  the  days  there.  He  watched 
everything.  He  saw  the  giant  Pain 
walking  around  that  Hospital,  making 
the  people  cry  out  with  the  terrible  hurt 
of  it.  Then  he  saw  our  doctor  go  up, 
and  quietly  kill  pain ;  he  saw  aches  and 
diseases  leave  sick  bodies  because  our 
Doctor  gave  them  the  right  kind  of  pills 
to  swallow,  or  because  he  knew  just 
where  to  operate. 

Jack  said  to  himself:  ^'This  beats 
farmin'  or  carpenterin'  all  holler!  If 
they  can  make  a  doctor  out  of  a  stupid 
rough  feller  like  me,  then  I  wants  to  be 


Jack  the  Giant-killer  141 

a  doctor.  There  ain't  nearly  enough 
doctors  in  these  parts,  so  I  reckon  I 
could  be  right  useful." 

I  like  to  think  of  him  as  ^^Jack,  the 
Giant-Killer, ' '  don 't  you "?  Wanting  al- 
ways to  do  something  hard,  something 
that  would  take  years  and  years  of 
study.  ^^I  ain't  scart  of  studyinM" 
Jack  said,  throwing  back  his  shoulders, 
*^I'm  plum  set  on  bein'  worth  while,  I 
am!" 

Years  and  years  later  when  Jack  and 
Jill  are  grown  up,  can't  you  just  ima- 
gine that  there  are  going  to  be  lovely 
corners  through  all  those  lonely  valleys, 
where  in  this  little  log  cabin,  and  in  that 
little  log  cabin,  people  are  going  to  be 
happier  and  healthier?  And  although 
other  people  will  call  it  *Hhe  spread  of 
Christianity,"  I  think  that  whenever 
you  and  I  hear  about  it,  we  will  remem- 
ber that  Jesus  is  the  '^Lily  of  the  Val- 
ley," and  that  the  new  sweetness,  the 
new  purity,  the  new  whiteness  are  all  due 
to  Him. 


EIGHTEENTH  STORY 
Jesus  said:   **I  am  the  Way" 

"THE  PEOPLE  FROM  OVER  THE 

OCEAN" 


What  does  the  word  Immigrant  mean?     And  have 
you  ever  an  Immigrant  seen? 


2.  Please  tell  me  how  there  happen  to  be  Immi- 
grants coming  from  over  the  sea? 


Ans. 


3.  Name  four  of  the  lands  from  which  Immigrants 
come  to  live  in   some  very  disreputable  slum? 


Ans. 


4.  Who  will  be  waiting  down  at  the  dock  to  wel- 
this  ignorant   scared-looking   flock? 


Ans, 


142 


EIGHTEENTH   STORY 

^^THE  PEOPLE  FAR  OVER  THE 

OCEAN '^ 

One  day  when  Jesus  was  here  among 
men  He  said  to  His  friends — ^*I  am  the 
Way, — no  man  cometh  unto  my  Father 
except  by  me/'  I  ahnost  think  I  like 
this  name  of  Jesus  more  than  any  of 
the  other  names  we  have  had  so  far,  for 
if  you  have  ever  been  lost  you  know  the 
first  thing  you  say  is:  ''How  can  I  get 
to  such  and  such  a  place?"  or  'Svhich 
way  do  I  go  to  get  to  such  and  such  a 
building  r' 

Now  it's  really  a  very  queer  thing, 
but  nearly  everybody  in  the  world  wants 
something.  Some  people  just  want  to 
be  happy,  and  they  spend  all  their  time 
trying  to  find  happiness.  To  them  Jesus 
says:  ''I  am  the  Way — follow  me,''  for 
every  single  person  who  has  followed 
Jesus  has  been  happy!  Other  people 
143 


144  Eighteenth  Story 

want  to  be  great  and  popular  and  have 
everyone  like  them.  Jesus  says  to  them : 
*^ Follow  me — I  am  the  Way."  They 
can't  believe  at  first  that  following 
Jesus  is  the  way  to  be  great  or  popular. 
They  are  very  much  like  a  man  of 
whom  I  once  heard  who  wanted  to  walk 
to  Smithville.  While  he  was  walking 
there  he  came  to  a  place  where  the  roads 
divided  into  two  parts — one  road  was 
smooth  and  shady  and  led  through  a 
pretty  valley,  the  other  road  was  rougli 
and  sunny  and  climbed  up  over  a  steep 
hill!  And  the  signpost  held  out  its 
wooden  arms  like  this  [Illustrate  with 
arms] :  **To  Smithville,  6  miles" — along 
that  steep  sunny  rough  road,  while  the 
smooth  shady  pretty  road  led  to  some 
other  place.  He  stood  there  and  glared 
at  the  signpost  a  minute,  then  he 
climbed  the  post,  and  changed  around 
signs  so  that  ^^To  Smithville,  6  miles" 
pointed  along  the  smooth  pretty  shady 
road!!  Then  with  a  beaming  face  he 
began  walking  and  walking  and  walk- 
ing along  his  shady  smooth  pretty  road, 


People  Far  Over  the  Ocean       145 

but !    He  never  got  to  SmithviUe! 

How  could  he?  When  there  was  only 
one  way;  for  although  he  had  muddled 
the  signs  he  had  not  really  changed  the 
roads  a  bit ! 

It  is  the  same  way  with  Jesus  and 
this  new  wonderful  name  of  His:  ^^I 
am  the  Way."  Sometimes  people  get 
the  signs  all  twisted  and  they  say:  ^^If 
only  people  had  nicer  prettier  homes, 
they  would  be  good!''  or  ^'If  they  only 
had  had  more  education,  then  they 
would  be  very  good!''  or  ^'If  they  only 
had  money,  it  would  help  them  to  be 
good,"  but  to  every  person  in  all  the 
world  Jesus  is  whispering:  '^I  am  the 
only  Way." 

This  month  I  want  to  tell  you  how  a 
great  many  different  kinds  of  people, 
from  a  great  many  different  lands, 
speaking  a  great  many  different  kinds 
of  languages,  are  trying  to  find  happi- 
ness and  success  here  in  America,  only 
they  don't  know  the  Way,  most  of  them. 
Some  of  the  people  lived  in  Eussia  once, 
some  in  Italy,  some  in  Turkey,  some  in 


146  Eighteenth  Story 

Greece,  some  in  Ireland,  some  in  Ger- 
many, some  in  Sweden,  some  in  China 
and  some  in  Japan.  From  all  over  the 
big  round  world  these  people  have  come 
to  America,  for  once  in  all  their  lives 
this  one  sentence  was  spoken  in  their 
families:  ''Come,  let  us  pack  up  and  go 
to  live  in  America.  It  is  a  fine  big  land, 
we  can  be  rich  and  happy  there,  the 
children  can  go  to  good  schools. ''  So 
all  over  the  world  all  kinds  of  poor 
families  packed  up  their  most  precious 
belongings  into  queer  big  bundles.  They 
kissed  their  neighbors  good-bye,  and  off 
they  started  for  America  in  a  big  ship. 
We  call  these  people  who  come  to 
America  from  all  over  the  world  ''Im- 
migrants,'' which  really  means  ''The 
people  who  have  come  over."  Of  course, 
they  were  too  poor  to  travel  in  the 
nicest  part  of  the  big  ship,  so  they  had 
to  stay  all  cooped  up  down  in  the  front 
part  of  the  boat :  It  was  stuffy  and  un- 
pleasant down  there;  when  the  great 
winds  came  blowing  over  the  ocean, 
making  great  rough  waves  dash  over  the 


People  Far  Over  the  Ocean      147 

ship  so  that  it  rocked  and  rolled,  then 
all  these  poor  people  down  in  the  front 
part  of  the  boat  felt  sick  and  miserable. 
Little  children  said  to  their  mothers: 
^*0h  dear!  I  wish  we  were  back  home!" 

And  I  suppose  each  mother  gathered 
her  children  into  her  lap,  the  nice  way 
mothers  have  all  over  the  world,  as  she 
said:  *^0h,  but  think  how  happy  and 
rich  we  will  be  in  America — so  don't 
cry!    We'll  be  there  in  a  week." 

But  a  week  is  seven  days  long,  of 
course,  and  seven  days  in  a  big  rolling 
rocking  boat  can  seem  like  seven  years! 
But  finally,  one  glorious  day  everybody 
rushed  out  on  deck,  crying:  ^^ There  is 
America!"  Oh  such  shouting!  And  yell- 
ing! And  excitement !  Only  they  don't 
say  it  in  a  language  we  can  understand 
— the  Russian  families  get  excited  in 
Russian,  and  the  Greek  families  shout  in 
Greek,  and  the  Italian  families  talk  in 
Italian,  and  the  Japanese  families  in 
Japanese !  Doesn't  it  make  you  wonder 
how  they  are  ever  going  to  get  along  in 
America   if  they  all  talk'  such  queer 


148  Eighteenth  Story 

different  languages,  and  don't  know 
English  ? 

You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  there 
will  be  missionaries  at  the  dock  when 
the  big  ship  gets  to  land — at  Ellis 
Island,  if  the  people  have  come  over 
the  Atlantic  Ocean ;  at  Angel  Island,  if 
they  have  come  over  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Each  missionary  can  speak  several  dif- 
ferent languages,  so  that  the  Russian, 
the  Italian,  the  Greek  and  the  Japanese 
families  are  met  by  a  sweet  smiling 
lady,  her  pocket  full  of  candy  and  toys 
for  the  scared  little  children,  and  lots 
of  good  advice  and  comfort  for  the  fa- 
thers and  mothers,  too ! 

You  see,  the  missionaries  know  that 
Jesus  is  *^the  Way,''  so  they  try  to  start 
these  poor  families  from  all  the  far 
away  countries  walking  in  the  right 
paths  to  happiness  and  success  and 
goodness. 


NINETEENTH  STORY 
Jesus  said:    "I  am  the  Way" 

THE   HOUSE   WITH   TOO   MANY 
PEOPLE 


1.  The  name  of  this  house  begins  with  a  T — .  If 
you  know  the  rest,  please  write  it  for  me. 

Ans 

2.  How    many  rooms  does  one  family  rent  in  such 
a   dirty  old  tenement? 

Ans 

3.  What   do   the   mothers   do   all   day   long?     And 
how  do  the  fathers  begin  to  do  wrong? 

Ans 

4.  What  is  THE  WAY  to  make  families  like  these 
as  contented  and  happy  as  you  please? 

Ans 

149 


NINETEENTH  STORY 

^^THE  HOUSE  WITH  TOO  MANY 
PEOPLE" 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  about  a  great 
many  families  from  all  over  the  world 
who  decided  to  come  here  to  America, 
so  they  could  make  more  money  than 
they  could  possibly  make  in  their  homes 
in  Russia,  or  Italy,  or  Austria,  or 
Japan.  For  years  and  years  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  these  families  have 
kept  coming  and  coming — sometimes 
several  million  a  year!  Think  of  it! 
Think  how  busy  it  must  keep  our  mis- 
sionaries at  the  dock. 

I  suppose  you  wonder  how  all  these 
people  ever  find  room  enough  in  Amer- 
ica to  live,  for  most  of  them  seem  to  like 
to  stay  right  in  New  York  City,  where 
they  certainly  are  terribly  crowded! 
They  live  in  the  ugliest,  dirtiest,  darkest 
old  buildings  you  ever  saw,  and  often  a 
150 


House  With  Too  Many  People    151 

whole  family  of  mother  and  father,  with 
five  or  six  children,  will  have  only  two 
small  rooms  in  one  of  these  ugly  tene- 
ments. Sometimes  they  even  crowd 
into  ONE  room,  where  they  eat  and  sleep 
and  live,  with  no  front  porch,  no  little 
yard  of  their  own, — no  anytliing!  They 
don't  like  it  a  bit  better  than  you  or  I 
would,  but  they  are  too  poor  to  buy  more 
rooms,  and  I  am  afraid  they  are  not 
nearly  as  happy  in  America  as  they 
thought  they  would  be  before  they  left 
their  old  homes  far  across  the  ocean  in 
Russia,  or  Italy,  or  Austria,  or  Japan. 

They  find  it  is  so  very  hard  to  talk 
English,  that  the  Russian  families  have 
a  way  of  renting  rooms  in  tenement 
buildings  where  other  Russian  families 
live;  and  Italian  families  like  to  be 
where  other  Italian  families  are ;  Chi- 
nese families  flock  together,  too,  so  that 
right  in  New  York  City  there  is  a  real 
''Little  Russia/'  and  a  ''Little  Italy'' 
and  a  " China-toivn," 

Because  everybody  is  crowded  into 
dirty  buildings,  no  one  is  very  happy, 


152  Nineteenth  Story 

and  rather  dreadful  things  keep  hap- 
pening there :  They  steal,  and  they  kill, 
and  they  drink,  fathers  beat  little  chil- 
dren, and  oh  dear!  it  keeps  our  police 
very  busy  trying  to  catch  the  thieves 
and  the  murderers  and  the  drunkards ! 
You  can't  imagine  how  many  dark  cor- 
ners there  are  to  hide  in,  down  where 
these  ugly  tenements  are. 

But  it  really  doesn't  do  a  thief  or  a 
murderer  or  a  drunkard  much  good  to 
be  locked  up  in  prison  with  other 
wicked  men.  For  each  tells  the  other 
dreadful  stories  about  what  he  once  did, 
and  they  get  so  mad  at  being  locked  up 
that  when  they  once  get  out  of  prison, 
they  begin  all  over  again  stealing  what 
doesn't  belong  to  them,  getting  drunk 
and  beating  their  children.  It's  very 
easy  to  see  that  prison  is  not  the  way 
to  make  them  better. 

I  wonder  if  you  remember  Who  it 
was  who  said:  ^^I  am  the  Way!"  Yes, 
it  was  Jesus,  and  you  would  be  sur- 
prised how  when  people  begin  to  follow 
Jesus,  they  stop  being  any  trouble  to 


House  With  Too  Many  People    153 

the  police,  and  they  never  have  to  be 
put  in  prison,  either. 

The  trouble  is  we  don't  begin  to  have 
enough  missionaries  to  visit  in  these 
ugly  crowded  tenement  buildings  to  tell 
the  people  about  Jesus.  There  are  so 
many  many  maxy  buildings,  just  jam- 
full  of  people  who  need  a  missionary, 
but  the  good  Christian  people  in  our 
churches  have  a  queer  way  of  forget- 
ting all  about  those  buildings  crowded 
with  families  who  do  not  know  anything 
about  Jesus.  By  this  time  you  know 
that  unless  the  church  people  give 
enough  money,  there  can't  be  mission- 
aries, can  there  ? 

Let  me  tell  you  what  a  certain  nice 
Mrs.  Missionary  did  in  one  day.  You 
have  a  picture  of  the  ugly  dark  old  tene- 
ment building  where  she  went  to  visit. 
There  are  five  floors,  and  she  decided  to 
begin  visiting  on  the  very  top  floor. 
Poor  dear,  she  has  to  walk  all  the  way 
up,  for  there  is  no  elevator.  Puff! 
Puff!  My,  how  five  flights  of  steps  do 
take   one's  breath!    But  then,   as  she 


154  Nineteenth  Story 

whispers  to  herself,  if  a  person  lived 
there,  the  steps  would  have  to  be 
climbed  several  times  every  single  day, 
and  she  only  has  to  climb  them  once! 

Knock !    Knock ! 

The  woman  who  lives  in  the  back 
room  on  the  fifth  floor  knows  our  mis- 
sionary. She  has  learned  to  keep  her 
room  neat,  she  even  has  a  geranium 
plant  growing  in  the  window,  and  two 
white  curtains.  There  is  a  Bible  on  the 
table,  and  she  and  the  missionary  have 
a  very  pleasant  call. 

But  in  the  front  rooms  on  that  floor 
lives  a  father  who  is  dreadful  to  his 
family,  and  the  baby  is  sick,  the  rooms 
are  so  dirty  and  cluttered  up  our  mis- 
sionary almost  hates  to  go  in.  She  does 
what  she  can  to  clean  up,  she  promises 
to  send  a  doctor  to  look  at  the  baby, 
then  she  starts  to  visit  the  rooms  on  the 
fourth  floor. 

Knock !    Knock ! 

''Aprite  la  porta!''  calls  an  Italian 
voice, — the  words  mean,  ^^open  the 
door!'' 


House  With  Too  Many  People    155 

So  Mrs.  JMissionaiy  opens  the  door 
and  walks  into  a  very  crowded  room, 
oh  so  crowded!  There  are  two  beds,  a 
table  loaded  down  with  dirty  dishes, 
a  few  chairs  without  backs,  and  be- 
side the  window  sits  a  woman  sewing 
on  buttons  as  fast  as  she  can.  She  has 
a  perfectly  enormous  pile  of  men's  coats 
beside  her  on  the  floor,  and  she  is  earn- 
ing a  little  money  by  sewing  buttons  on 
all  the  coats  in  one  day.  That  is  why 
she  has  only  time  to  look  up  and  smile 
as  she  asks  Mrs.  Missionary  to  sit  down, 
— in  Italian,  of  course. 

So  down  sits  our  missionary,  and 
finds  two  shy  little  girls  are  hiding  be- 
tween the  beds.  She  shows  them  how 
they  can  help  mother  wash  the  dirty 
dishes  on  the  table.  She  made  it  seem 
like  a  game,  you  know— how  they  did 
giggle  and  laugh  when  all  the  Miss 
Spoons  and  the  Mrs.  Forks  and  the  Mr. 
Knives  had  their  faces  washed  and 
dried!  The  busy  mother  laughed,  too, 
and  promised  to  send  Michelina  and 
Theresa  to  Sunday-school.  So  Mrs.  Mis- 


156  Nineteenth  Story 

sionary  left  smiles  and  a  neater  room 
behind  her  as  she  said,  '^Addios"  to 
them,  and  hurried  away  to  visit  the 
other  family  crowded  into  the  ugly 
building.  Don't  you  love  to  think  that 
day  in,  and  day  out,  kind  helpful  mis- 
sionaries are  going  into  these  gloomy 
places  and  showing  people  'the  Way  to 
happiness  and  goodness?    I  do! 


TWENTIETH   STORY 


Vf 


¥t 


^ 


^ 


^ 


9- 


M 


1.  What  is  the  name  of  the  land  where  the  Jew! 
are  never  free  to  do  as  they  choose? 


Ans. 


2.  In  winter  and  summer  I  wonder  who  knows  liow 
poor  Mrs.  Yiichovitch  washed  all  her  clothes? 


Ans. 


3.  After  they  crossed  the  sea  and  came  here  what 
caused  Mrs.  Yuchovitch  many  a  tear? 


Ans. 


4.  Tell  how  Rachel's  dear  little  song  actually  stop- 
ped all  that  was  wrong. 


Ans. 


157 


TWENTIETH  STORY 

^^WHO   COULD  IT  BEV 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  about  the 
ugly  tenement  buildings  where  the  fami- 
lies who  come  here  from  over  the  sea, 
live.  To-day  I  thought  you  would  enjoy 
this  true  story  of  a  tiny  little  Rus- 
sian Jewish  girl,  named  Rachel.  Once 
Rachel  and  all  her  family  had  lived  in 
Russia.  That  was  when  she  was  three 
years  old;  but  they  were  all  very  un- 
happy there,  because  no  one  in  Russia 
is  kind  to  the  Jews,  and  they  were  very 
poor.  So  poor  that  Rachel's  mother 
carried  her  washing  down  to  the  river, 
even  in  winter,  when  she  had  to  crack 
the  ice  to  get  at  the  water.  Yes,  indeed, 
she  tucked  up  her  skirt,  and  washed  the 
clothes  in  the  icy  water !  Nobody  in  the 
family  got  enough  to  eat,  or  had  enough 
to  wear,  so  one  day  Mr.  Israel  Yucho- 
vitch,  Rachel's  father,  said:  ^*We  will 
158 


Who  Could  It  Be?  159 

pack  up  and  go  to  America.  It  is  the 
Promised  Land.  We  will  find  happi- 
ness and  money  there." 

So  they  rolled  their  few  quilts  and 
candlesticks  into  a  bundle,  and  off  they 
sailed  for   far  away  America.    When 
they  got  to  New  York,  Mr.  Yuchovitch 
rented  a  small  room  way  way  up  in  a 
dark    tenement    building.     Every    day 
Mi\  Yuchovitcli  and  his  two  sons  went 
to  work  in  a  big  factory  where  men's 
coats  and  trousers  were  made,  and  every 
day  Rebecca  and  Sarah  went  to  school, 
while  Rachel  and  the  mother  stayed  in 
the  horrid  little  room.     Somehow  they 
could  not  even  begin  to  be  happy,  for 
although  RachePs  father  and  the  bo^^s 
made  a  good  deal  more  money  than  they 
could  in  Russia,  still  he  went  into  a  sa- 
loon at  the  corner  and  spent  most  of  it 
right  away,  getting  drunk,  so  that  Mrs. 
Yuchovitch  used  to  cry  and  feel  very 
lonesome  in  this  strange  new  city,  and 
none  of  the  children  got  enough  to  eat. 
Then    one    day    a    Miss    Missionary 
called,  who  could  talk  Russian,  and  she 


i6o  Twentieth  Story 

said  to  Mrs.  Yuchovitch:  ^'You  would 
not  feel  so  lonely  in  New  York  if  you 
could  only  talk  English  like  the  rest  of 
us  do — Rebecca  and  Sarah  are  learning 
English  in  school,  let  me  come  and  teach 
you  once  a  week ! ' ' 

Mrs.  Yuchovitch  said  ^^All  righf  in 
a  manner  that  plainly  meant  *^I  don't- 
much  -  care  -  what  - 1  -  do  -  I'm  -  so  -  un- 
happy!'' But  it  wasn't  very  long  be- 
fore she  was  quite  interested;  and  the 
day  she  actually  read  aloud  her  first 
sentence,  '^God  is  love!"  she  really 
smiled, — and  she  hadn't  smiled  for 
months ! 

Miss  Missionary  fell  in  love  with 
Rachel,  who  was  about  four  years  old, 
a  chubby  dimpled  girl  with  jet  black 
hair  and  shiny  black  eyes:  the  pet  of 
the  family,  the  one  person  in  all  the 
world  to  whom  her  father  was  always 
kind.  So  when  Miss  Missionary  invited 
Mrs.  Yuchovitch  to  come  to  a  chapel 
service  once  a  week  with  other  Jewish 
women  to  learn  hymns  and  Bible  verses, 
Rachel  tagged  along  all  dimples  and 


Who  Could  It  Be?  i6i 

smiles.    She   learned  the  hymns  very 
easily.    One  of  them  went  like  this: 

*^  Somebody  came  and  lifted  me 

Out  of  my  sin  and  misery; 
Somebody  came — oh  tuho  could  it  be'? 

Who  could  it  be,  but  Jesus'? 

I  do  wish  you  could  have  heard  little 
Rachel  sing  it — her  dear  little  voice 
very  sweet  and  clear,  her  pretty  head 
thrown  back! 

One  of  the  hard  things  Mrs.  Yucho- 
vitch  had  to  do  was  to  get  her  husband 
to  leave  the  saloon  to  come  home.  So 
one  night  she  actually  sent  Rachel  right 
into  the  dreadful  place  to  find  her  fa- 
ther. But  Rachel  really  did  not  know 
about  its  being  a  saloon,  at  all,  she  only 
knew  she  saw  her  father  drinking  some- 
thing out  of  a  glass,  so  she  ran  over,  and 
climbed  up  on  his  lap,  just  the  way  she 
did  at  home ! 

*^I  has  a  boo'ful  new  song  to  sing," 
she  whispered,  happily,  *  listen  fader" 
— and  then  she  sang: 


1 62  Twentieth  Story 

*^  Somebody  came  and  lifted  me 

Out  of  my  sin  and  misery ; 
Somebody  came — oh  wJio  could  it  be? 

Who  could  it  be,  but  Jesus'?" 

But  for  once  her  father  did  not  pet 
her,  he  pushed  her  off  his  lap:  ^^Rachel 
Yuchovitch,"  he  thundered,  ^^  never  let 
me  hear  you  say  the  name  Jesus  again. 
You  are  a  Jew!'' 

For  I  think  you  surely  remember  that 
even  when  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 
the  Jews  did  not  believe  in  Him,  and 
to  this  very  day  most  of  them  will  not 
accept  Him  as  God's  son. 

But  little  Rachel  quite  forgot  what 
her  father  told  her,  for  the  next  night 
she  climbed  up  on  his  knee  and  sang 
the  very  same  song  again!  Although 
her  father  scowled  and  frowned,  he 
really  loved  to  hear  her  sweet  little  voice 
chirping  away  so  happily,  and  he  pre- 
tended it  didn't  matter  what  she  sang. 
So  of  course  the  next  night  she  sang  it 
to  him  all  over  again:  ^'Who  could  it 
be?    Oh  wlio  could  it  be?    Who  could 


Who  Could  It  Be?  163 

it  be,  but  Jesus'?"  And  she  kept  it  up 
so  long,  that  by  and  by  Mr.  Yuchovitch 
hummed  the  tune  as  he  ran  his  machine 
in  the  factory  and  while  he  walked  home 
in  the  evening. 

A  JNIr.  Missionary  happened  to  hear 
him  humming  it  on  the  street  one  day, 
so  he  invited  him  to  come  to  the  chapel 
service  that  evening. 

''I'm  not  a  Christian,''  growled  Mr. 
Yuchovitch  savagely. 

''Come  anyway!"  said  the  Mr.  Mis- 
sionary. 

And  somehow  Mr.  Yuchovitch  went. 
Rachel  was  there  with  her  mother.  You 
should  have  heard  her  sing  that  night. 
Mr.  Missionary  gave  a  fine  talk  about 
Jesus — tlie  Way  to  God,  to  happiness, 
to  Heaven.  Mr.  Yuchovitch  began 
feeling  something  very  comfortable  in 
his  heart.  This  strange  new  America 
did  not  seem  so  strange  as  he  sang 
the  new  song  Miss  Missionary  taught 
them:  "I've  found  a  Friend,  oh  such 
a  Friend,"  which  most  of  you  know  by 
heart,  I  think. 


164  Twentieth  Story 

But  he  never  said  a  word  to  anybody 
about  the  way  he  felt.  He  stopped  go- 
ing to  the  corner  saloon,  though;  and 
he  hummed  to  himself  all  day  as  he 
worked  his  machine  in  the  factory.  He 
saved  his  money,  and  one  day  the  whole 
family  moved  into  a  house,  with  a  little 
yard  in  back  and  an  upstairs  and  a 
downstairs !  Mrs.  Yuchovitch  had  a  lit- 
tle dinner-bell  to  ring  just  like  the  Amer- 
ican neighbors  she  was  trying  so  hard 
to  copy.  And  when  they  sat  down  to 
dinner  Mr.  Yuchovitch,  and  all  the  other 
Yuchovitches,  big  and  little,  bowed 
their  heads  and  closed  their  eyes  while 
he  said  the  prayer  Mr.  Missionary  had 
said  Christian  families  should  say.  Be- 
cause, you  see,  Rachel's  little  song  had 
shown  Mr.  Yuchovitch  the  Way! 


TWTENTY-FIRST  STORY 
Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Way" 

A  CHERRY  BLOSSOM  THAT 
BLOOMED  IN  NEW  YORK 

b 


1.  Tell  about  the  paper  prayer — what  was  it  thrown 
at,  also  where? 

Ans 

2.  Tell  me:— What  is  a  "Picture  Bride?"  And  why 
Cherry  Blossom  cried  and  cried? 

Ans 

3.  What  were  the  presents  the  groom  brought  the 
bride?  Two  things  she  wore  with  the  greatest  of 
pride  ? 

Ans 

4.  When  in  New  York  she  got  lonely  and  sad,  what 
was  the  greatest  joy  that  she  had? 

Ans 

165 


TAVENTY-FIBST  STORY 

^*A  CHERRY  BLOSSOM  THAT 
BLOOMED  IN  NEW  YORK'' 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  about  a  lit- 
tle Jewish  girl  named  Rachel  and  how 
Jesus  became  the  way  to  happiness  in 
her  family ;  to-day  I  want  to  tell  you  a 
story  about  a  Japanese  family,  only  the 
story  begins  way  over  in  Japan,  where 
a  very  pretty  young  girl  named ' '  Cherry 
Blossom"  lived.  She  had  the  blackest 
hair  and  the  quaintest  face  you  ever 
saw,  with  eyes  that  slanted  up  at  the 
corners,  the  way  Japanese  eyes  do !  She 
wore  a  lavender  kimono  with  a  green 
sash,  and  when  she  walked  on  the  street 
she  carried  a  paper  parasol  painted  all 
over  with  gay  flowers.  She  was  so  po- 
lite that  she  bowled  very  low  whenever 
she  met  anyone  she  knew.  Altogether 
she  was  a  perfectly  charming  picture! 

But  you  know  how  it  is — you  can  look 
ever  and  ever  so  lovely  outside^  and  not 

i66 


A  Cherry  Blossom  167 

be  at  all  happy  inside,  which  is  just  the 
way  it  was  with  Cherry  Blossom.  For 
her  mother  and  father  were  dead,  and 
the  uncle  with  whom  she  was  living 
thought  it  would  be  a  fine  idea  for  her 
to  come  over  to  live  in  America.  In 
fact  he  had  already  sent  her  photograph 
over  to  America,  hoping  some  young 
Japanese  man  would  choose  her  for  his 
wife.  But  Cherry  Blossom  was  afraid 
to  leave  Japan,  so  this  is  what  she  did : 
She  went  to  a  temple  where  there  was 
a  big  stone  idol,  and  she  bought  a  prayer 
written  on  a  piece  of  paper,  which 
asked  the  stone  idol  to  honorably  please 
to  give  happiness  and  prosperity  to  the 
humble  worshipper !  She  put  the  piece 
of  paper  in  her  mouth,  and  ehetved  it 
all  up  into  a  little  wet  ball.  Then,  kneel- 
ing, she  bowed  her  head  way  over  until 
her  forehead  touched  the  ground,  then 
she  sat  back  on  her  heels  and  threw  the 
wet  ball  at  the  idol! 

She  thought  (and  almost  everybody  in 
Japan  thinks)  that  if  the  paper  prayer 
stuck  to  the  idol,  then  the  prayer  would 


i68  Twenty-first  Story 

surely  be  answered;  but  if  it  did  not 
stick,  then  the  idol  was  not  pleased  to 
answer  the  prayer.  Well,  you  can  just 
imagine  how  delighted  Cherry  Blossom 
was  to  see  that  her  little  paper  wad  was 
caught  right  in  the  idoFs  big  stone 
hand !  Of  course,  she  expected  to  have 
her  prayer  for  happiness  answered ! 

But  day  after  day  went  by,  and  her 
iincle  grumbled  because  she  ate  too 
much  rice,  and  her  aunt  looked  for 
a  letter  from  America!  Finally  the 
dreaded  letter  came,  and  Cherry  Blos- 
som learned  that  a  Japanese  man  in 
America  liked  her  picture  so  much  that 
he  wanted  her  to  come  over  to  America 
and  marry  him.  Her  uncle  marched 
her  right  down  to  the  courthouse,  and 
registered  her  name  on  the  house  regis- 
ter of  the  far  away  groom ;  and  her  aunt 
taught  her  to  do  up  her  hair  as  a  Japan- 
ese married  woman  should;  and  a  few 
days  later  she  was  sailing  away  to 
America  in  a  big  boat  to  this  entirely 
unknown  husband. 

Cherry  Blossom  was  what  we  call  a 


A  Cherry  Blossom  169 

^* picture  bride/'  because  her  husband 
chose  her  from  her  picture^  without  see- 
ing her.  She  had  a  picture  of  him,  too, 
and  you  can  imagine  how  often  she 
looked  at  it  on  the  way  over,  while  the 
ship  was  rolling  and  tossing  in  the 
ocean.  Was  she  going  to  please  him, 
or  not?  Would  she  be  happy  in  far 
away  America? 

Finally  she  reached  America  and 
landed  on  an  island  called  Angel  Island, 
to  wait  for  her  unknown  husband  to 
call  for  her. 

When  he  came,  he  brought  her  two 
of  the  funniest  presents  you  can  imagine 
for  a  bride — a  pair  of  shoes,  and  a  hat ! 
You  see,  he  knew  prefectly  well  that 
Japanese  girls  in  Japan  never  wear 
either  shoes  or  hats,  and,  of  course,  he 
didn't  want  to  be  ashamed  of  her  in 
this  land  where  girls  do  wear  shoes  and 
hats!  She  giggled  a  good  deal,  for  it 
was  dreadfully  hard  to  walk  on  the 
queer,  queer  heels,  and  the  hat  kept 
blowing  off  because  he  had  quite  for- 
gotten to  bring  any  hat  pins! 


170  Twenty-first  Story 

Then  they  were  married,  and  every- 
where he  lived,  she  lived  too,  of  course. 
So  when  he  came  to  New  York  City  to 
work  all  day  in  an  office,  she  was  tucked 
away  in  the  one  room  they  lived  in  there, 
the  lonesomest  little  lady  in  all  New 
York.  He  had  taught  her  a  few  English 
words,  like,  *^ thank  you''  and  "it  you 
please," — you  might  know  they  would 
be  polite  words  like  these,  because  the 
Japanese  are  so  very  polite!  But  you 
can't  go  far  in  New  York  with  those 
few  words,  anyhow  the  wagons  and 
automobiles  and  street  cars  frightened 
her  a  great  deal. 

Fortunately  you  and  I,  and  our  moth- 
ers and  fathers,  and  the  other  people 
in  our  church,  have  missionaries  of  our 
very  own  to  call  on  these  lonely  Japan- 
ese people,  and  our  missionary  found 
Mrs,  Cherry  Blossom  dismally  twirling 
her  lonely  little  thumbs  in  a  dingy  old 
tenement  house.  It  wasn't  long  before 
she  and  her  husband  went  to  our  Ja- 
panese house  in  New  York  where  ser- 
ices  are  held,  and  there  they  learned 


A  Cherry  Blossom  171 

that  Jesus  is  the  Way  to  God  and  to 
happiness.  Cherry  Blossom  remembered 
her  silly  paper  prayer  to  the  useless 
stone  idol,  and  was  so  glad  she  knew 
better  now.  But  her  husband  said:  ''I 
have  been  in  your  honorable  country 
nine  years,  and  this  is  the  first  time  I 
have  heard  of  God ! ' '  Which  just  shows 
there  aren't  nearly  enough  missiona- 
ries for  all  the  people  who  need  to  hear 
about  God,  doesn't  it? 

The  nicest  part  of  my  story  is  that  a 
year  later  Cherry  Blossom  and  her  hus- 
band went  back  to  Japan  to  live,  and 
when  the  Japanese  people  asked  what 
was  the  finest  thing  in  all  America. 
Cherry  Blossom  would  say:  ^^The 
churches."  People  in  Japan  knew  so 
little  about  churches,  of  course,  that  it 
was  a  fine  chance  to  tell  how  happy  they 
were  now  that  they  knew  Jesus  was  The 
Way  to  happiness  and  to  God.  So  what 
our  missionary  did  in  New  York  went 
all  around  the  world,  you  see ! 


TWIGNTY-SECOND  STORY 

Jesiis  is:   *'The  Rose  of  Sharon'* 

SOME  JAPANESE  FLOWERS 
THAT  CAN  TALK 

^/1 


1.  Write  down  all  you  possibly  can  about  the  queer 
houses   in   pretty    Japan? 

Afis , 

2.  Tell  me  how  the  Japanese  sit. — Do  you  think 
you  could  ever  like  it? 

Ans * 

3.  What  kind  of  idols  stood  on  the  shelf  which 
each   little   sister   worshipped   herself? 

Ans 

4.  What  do  the  mothers  teach  daughters  to  do, 
when  they  ought  to  learn  reading  from  our  point 
of  view? 

172 


TWENTY-SECOND  STORY 

^^SOME    JAPANESE    FLOWERS 
THAT  CAN  TALK" 

I  WONDER  if  there  is  any  particular 
flower  that  you  always  exi3ect  to  see 
when  June  is  here?  A  flower  that 
everybody  loves  and  calls  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  the  flowers  in  the  world  ? 
Yes — a  rose! 

One  day,  long — oh  very  long — ^before 
Jesus  came  here  among  men,  a  very 
wise  man  was  telling  all  the  things  that 
Jesus  would  be,  and  one  of  the  loveliest 
names  he  gave  Him  was  ^'TJie  Eose  of 
Sharon."  I  think  there  could  not  be 
a  more  beautiful  name  of  Jesus  for  us 
to  hear  about  in  June  than  this  one:  *'I 
am  the  Rose  of  Sharon/'  Way  over 
the  ocean  in  the  ''Land  of  the  Rising 
Sun"  which  is  called  Japan  in  the 
geographies,  children  look  just  as  sweet 
as  the  flowers  for  whom  they  are  named. 
173 


174  Twenty-second  Story 

There  are  three  little  sisters  whose 
names  are  O  Ishihara  San  (Miss  Chrys- 
anthemum), O  Ume  San  (Miss  Plum 
Blossom),  and  O  Shika  San  (Miss 
Camellia).  They  are  just  about  the 
cutest,  prettiest  little  girls  you  ever  saAv, 
and  I  want  to  tell  you  about  them  to- 
day. 

Chrysanthemum  has  on  a  yellow 
kimono.  Plum  Blossom's  is  lavender 
and  Camellia's  is  pink.  Their  sleeves 
are  very  long  as  you  see  by  the  picture 
and  they  flutter  around  exactly  like 
three  dear  big  butterflies.  Children  in 
Japan  are  taught  to  be  very  polite,  so 
when  they  enter  their  cunning  little 
house,  the  three  small  flower  girls  fall 
on  their  knees  and  bow  'way  over  to 
knock  their  polite  little  foreheads  to  the 
floor  before  their  father  and  mother ! 

You  never  saw  a  house  with  so  little 
in  it — no  chairs,  no  tables,  no  book- 
cases, no  lamps !  On  the  floor  there  are 
some  soft  thick  mats  called  Japanese 
straw  mats.  I  will  tell  you  a  queer 
thing  about  them.    Every  mat  in  Japan 


Some  Japanese  Flowers         175 

is  made  a  certain  size,  so  the  rooms  of 
a  house  simply  have  to  be  built  the  right 
size  for  the  mats.  People  say:  ^'This 
is  a  six  mat  room,  I  see!"  The  walls, 
doors  and  windows  would  seem  very 
queer  to  us,  too,  for  they  are  made  of 
thick  paper,  even  the  tvalls^  which 
are  really  big  paper  doors,  made  like 
screens,  which  can  be  pushed  aside  to 
make  all  the  rooms  into  one  big  room. 
You  can  just  imagine  how  careful 
Chrysanthemum,  Plum  Blossom  and 
Camellia  had  to  be,  not  to  fall  through 
the  paper  walls  into  the  next  room! 

In  Japan  the  people  just  tuck  their 
feet  under  them  and  sit  right  down  on 
the  floor ;  at  night  they  get  some  quilts 
and  roll  themselves  up  ready  to  sleep 
on  the  floor,  too!  When  they  have  a 
meal  they  sit  on  the  floor  before  tiny 
tables,  with  legs  only  a  few  inches  high. 
Somehow  it  seems  like  ^^playing-house'' 
to  live  there,  don't  you  think  so? 

There  was  a  god-shelf  in  the  house 
with  a  great  many  little  idols  made  of 
wood  and  brass  on  it.    There  was  one 


176  Twenty-second  Story 

idol  with  a  very  long  head  to  whom  the 
family  prayed  for  long  life.  There  was 
another  little  idol  with  a  string  of  fish 
in  his  hands,  to  whom  they  prayed  when 
they  wanted  good  luck.  There  was  a 
god  with  rice  bags  on  his  back  to  whom 
they  prayed  when  they  wanted  wealth 
— and  ever  so  many  more,  sitting  there 
like  useless  little  dolls, — only  I  am  sorry 
to  say  the  family  were  so  afraid  of  them 
that  they  gave  them  each  some  rice 
every  day  to  keep  them  in  a  good  humor. 
On  the  day  our  story  opens,  all  the 
little  sisters  were  out  in  their  tiny  gar- 
den, which  hardly  seemed  bigger  than 
a  pocket  handkerchief,  although  there 
was  a  pretty  little  bridge  over  a  tiny 
little  lake,  there  was  a  quaint  old  stone 
lantern,  several  trees  and  some  lovely 
flowers,  too.  Their  mother  was  giving 
them  lessons  in  arranging  flowers,  for 
although  she  did  not  think  it  necessary 
for  girls  to  know  how  to  read,  she 
thought  it  was  very  important  for  them 
to  know  how  flowers  should  be  placed 
in  a  vasel     For  there  are  ways — and 


Some  Japanese  Flowers         177 

ways!  Each  morning  the  sisters  took 
turns,  and  on  the  day  our  story  begins 
it  was  Chrysanthemum's  turn  to  pick 
something  pretty  in  the  garden  for  the 
vase  of  flowers.  She  danced  round  the 
garden  like  a  big  yellow  butterfly,  over 
the  bridge,  around  the  tiny  lake :  here, 
there,  everywhere,  until  finally  she  chose 
a  branch  of  plum  blossoms  because  that 
was  what  her  sister  Time's  name  meant. 

Then  she  went  indoors  and  politely 
bowing  to  her  mother,  knelt  on  the  floor 
beside  her  and  began  arranging  the 
branch— this  way— that  way— the  other 
way!  Oh  such  twistings  and  turnings. 
Finally  it  was  exactly  right,  her  mother 
said,  and  told  her  to  put  it  in  the  ''hon- 
orable recess." 

I  am  positive  you  never  heard  of  an 
''honorable  recess"  before,  but  as  Ja- 
panese houses  all  have  them,  I  shall 
have  to  explain  that  it  is  a  raised  al- 
cove in  the  very  best  room  near  the 
verandah.  The  real  name  for  the  ' '  hon- 
orable recess"  is  the  ''Tokonoma/'  I 
have  put  a  drawing  of  it  on  your  take- 


178  Twenty-second  Story 

home  cards,  where  you  can  see  the  queer 
little  table  with  the  queer  little  vase  of 
plum  blossoms  which  Chrysanthemum 
arranged.  There  is  always  a  long  ^Daper 
picture  which  looks  rather  like  a  ban- 
ner hanging  in  the  ^^ honorable  recess," 
the  picture  is  called  the  ''Kakemono/' 
There  is  so  little  furniture  in  the  house, 
that  this  honorable  recess  must  always 
be  kept  beautiful  by  the  little  sisters. 

I  have  a  feeling  in  my  heart  that  al- 
though everything  seems  so  sweet  and 
flowery  in  Japan,  everything  must  be 
all  wrong  if  they  know  nothing  about 
Jesus,  ^^the  Rose  of  Sharon,"  and  wor- 
ship useless  idols  instead! 


TWENTY-THIRD  STORY 

Jesus  is:   "The  Rose  of  Sharon' 


1.  What  is  the  name  of  the  Birthday  Feast  of  all 
Japanese  girls,  both  greatest  and  least? 

Ans 

2.  What  do  they  snatch  from  the  big  red  box  the 
minute  their  father  the  clasp  unlocks? 

Ans 

3.  How  do  they  set  them  up  on  the  shelves  after 
politely  bowing  themselves? 

Ans 

4.  What  do  they  carry  out  doors  at  night  to  make 
everything  round  them  seem  very  light? 

Ans 

179 


TWENTY-THIRD  STORY 

^^LEAVING  OUT  THE  BEST  PART 
OF  CHILDREN'S  DAY'' 

Ever  and  ever  so  far  away  in  beau- 
tiful Japan  there  are  two  Children's 
Days:  One  on  March  third  is  called 
^^The  Feast  of  Dolls,"  for  girls ;  the  one 
on  May  fifth  is  called  ^^The  Feast  of 
Flags,"  for  boys.  Since  our  three  little 
Japanese  flower  friends  are  girls,  I 
thought  I  would  tell  you  to-day  what 
Chrysanthemum,  Plum  Blossom  and 
Camellia  did  on  their  Feast  of  Dolls, 
their  Children's  Day,  on  which  the  very 
best  part  of  all  was  left  out ! 

For  our  Children's  Day  is  ever  so 
much  nicer,  as  you  will  agree,  because 
in  all  our  hearts  there  is  always  the 
love  of  Jesus,  and  when  we  sing  songs 
about  the  lovely  flowers,  we  know  that 
Jesus  Himself  is  far  lovelier,  because 
i8o 


Leaving  Out  the  Best  Part        i8i 

we  remember  His  name:  ''The  Rose  of 
Sharon. '  ^ 

For  one  thing,  all  the  little  girls  in 
Japan  have  their  birthdays  at  the  same 
time,  at  the  ''Feast  of  Dolls."  Days 
and  days  before  the  great  feast  came, 
Plum  Blossom  would  say:  "Honored 
mother,  how  many  days  is  it  nowT' 
And  her  mother  always  knew  she 
meant:  "Oh  dear!  When  is  my  birth- 
day ever  going  to  get  here  ?" 

But,  of  course,  the  day  really  did 
arrive,  and  the  three  sisters  trotted  out 
in  the  garden  behind  their  father  to  a 
little  house  where  all  their  precious 
things  were  stored.  He  lifted  down  a 
big  red  box,  as  big  as  a  trunk,  and  car- 
ried it  into  the  house  where  on  one  side 
of  the  room  were  five  shelves,  like  steps, 
against  the  wall.  Although  you  have 
no  idea  what  they  are  for,  you  may  rest 
assured  that  Chrysanthemum,  Plum 
Blossom  and  Camellia  knew  just  what 
to  do.  It  didn't  take  them  a  minute  to 
cover  the  steps  with  a  beautiful  piece 
of  red  silk,  then  they  opened  the  big  red 


1 82  Twenty-third  Story 

box  and  found  it  ftdl  of  dolls — just 
stuffed  with  them ! 

One  sister  lifted  out  the  first  doll,  a 
very  grand  lady  doll  dressed  in  stiff  silk 
robes  embroidered  with  chrysanthe- 
mums. That  was  the  Empress  doll,  so 
she  set  it  up  on  the  highest  step.  Then 
another  sister  carefully  lifted  out  the 
Emperor  doll,  dressed  in  stiff  silk  robes, 
too,  and  put  him  besides  the  Empress 
on  the  top  step. 

There  were  girl  dolls,  and  boy  dolls, 
lady  dolls  with  baby  dolls  strapped  on 
their  backs — all  sorts  of  dolls  were 
stuffed  in  that  wonderful  red  box.  Each 
doll  was  carried  over  to  the  steps  and 
made  to  bow  very  low  before  the  Em- 
peror and  Empress  dolls,  before  being 
set  up  in  its  own  23lace  on  a  lower  shelf. 

These  dolls  had  belonged  to  the  sis- 
ters' grandmother,  and  when  she  was  a 
little  girl  she  had  played  with  them  on 
her  birthdays;  then  their  own  mother 
had  played  with  them  on  Iter  birthdays, 
but  so  carefully  that  none  of  them  were 
broken  or  torn.    You  see  they  were  only 


Leaving  Out  the  Best  Part        183 

taken  out  of  the  red  box  once  a  year,  at 
the  ^^ Feast  of  Dolls."  After  every  doll 
v^as  out  of  the  box  and  seated  on  the 
steps  then  the  three  sisters  got  tiny 
dishes  and  pretended  to  feed  them,  be- 
ginning first  with  the  Emperor  and  Em- 
press dolls,  of  course!  All  day  long 
they  played  with  the  dolls,  knowing  that 
at  night  they  would  have  to  say  good- 
bye to  them  for  another  whole  year. 
They  could  sit  up  as  late  as  they  wanted 
to  that  night,  and  their  father  took 
them  out  for  a  little  walk  on  the  street. 

They  each  carried  a  paper  lantern, 
because  that  is  what  people  have  to  do 
in  Japan,  when  the  streets  are  so  dark. 
While  they  were  walking  up  and  down 
the  very  strangest-looking  lady  they  had 
ever  seen  walked  up  to  them,  smiling 
all  over  her  pale  face,  she  said  some- 
thing like  this:  ^^ Honored  sir,  would 
you  be  willing  for  your  distinguished 
daughters  to  attend  my  humble  Sun- 
day-school to-morrow  f" 

The  father  bowed  very  politely,  and 
although  he  had  never  heard  of  a  Sun- 


184  Twenty-third  Story 

day-school  before,  he  said  that  his  mis- 
erable little  daughters  would  be  de- 
lighted to  attend  her  excellency's  illus- 
trious school. 

At  that,  all  the  ^^  miserable  little 
daughters"  looked  far  from  miserable, 
for  they  liked  this  queer  American  lady 
right  away,  they  loved  her  queer  blue 
eyes  and  her  pale  yellow  hair,  and  her 
funny,  funny  shoes !  So  that  is  the  way 
our  very  own  missionary  tried  to  see 
that  the  best  part  of  Children's  Day 
should  not  be  left  out  any  longer ;  on  this 
Feast  of  Dolls  she  planted  the  tiniest 
of  tiny  seeds  which  would  some  time 
blossom  into  the  lovely  Rose  of  Sharon. 


TAVENTY-FOURTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:   "The  Rose  of  Sharon" 

THEEE    LITTLE    SISTERS    AND 
WHAT  THEY  LEARNED 


1.  Please   tell   me   how   Japanese   childreu   usually 
bow? 


Ans. 


2.  What   in    our    Sunday-school    was   taught    about 
idols,  so  useless  the  children  thought? 


Ans. 


185 


TWENTY-FOURTH  STORY 

^^  THREE  LITTLE   SISTERS  AND 
WHAT  THEY  LEARNED'' 

Perhaps  you  remember  that  last  Sun- 
day the  three  little  Japanese  girls, 
Chrysanthemum,  Plum  Blossom  and 
Camellia,  were  invited  to  Sunday-school 
by  our  missionary,  a  place  where  they 
had  never  been  before  in  all  their  lives. 
They  did  look  so  cunning  as  they  sallied 
out  of  the  queer  little  house  they  lived 
in,  for  each  of  them  carried  a  bright- 
colored  paper  parasol  and  slipped  into 
wooden  clogs — clickety-clack,  clickety- 
clack — my!  what  a  clatter  they  made 
as  their  wooden  shoes  scraped  along  the 
street. 

Long  before  they  reached  the  chapel 
they  could  easily  tell  which  building  it 
was  because  children  were  simply  pour- 
ing inside  the  door!  When  the  three 
sisters  got  indoors  themselves  they  saw^ 

i86 


Three  Little  Sisters  187 

the  lady  with  the  pale  hair,  and  knelt 
down  on  the  ground  and  bumped  their 
polite  little  noses  to  the  floor  as  they 
said  in  a  chorus:  ''Ohaijs,  Seusei-San/' 
which  means  in  English,  '^How  do  you 
do,  honorable  teacher!''  Our  mission- 
ary bowed  too,  onJy  she  did  not  kneel. 

After  all  the  children  had  folded  their 
legs  under  them,  as  they  sat  on  the  floor, 
our  missionary  closed  her  eyes  and  said 
a  little  prayer,  just  as  we  do  in  our  Sun- 
day-schools. The  three  little  sisters  did 
not  know  about  keeping  their  eyes  shut, 
of  course,  so  they  spent  all  the  time 
looking  for  the  idol  to  whom  this  lady 
was  praying. 

*^I  can't  see  any  honorable  idol  any- 
where, can  you?"  whispered  Plum 
Blossom. 

^^ Neither  can  I,"  said  Chrysanthe- 
mum. Then  the  lady  asked  the  scholars 
to  sing  a  song  you  and  1  know  so  well, 
^^  Jesus  loves  me,  this  I  know,"  it  sounds 
like  this  in  Japanese:  ''Shu  ware  no 
aisu,"  Then  our  missionary  began  tell- 
ing a  new  story  about  Jesus,  how  kind 


i88  Twenty-fourth  Story 

He  was,  how  He  was  with  us  all  day  in 
our  work  and  in  our  play — just  the  sort 
of  a  lesson  our  very  own  teachers  give 
us  every  Sunday.  Then  she  had  what 
all  good  teachers  have — she  had  a  re- 
view lesson — and  oh !  the  mistakes  those 
Japanese  children  made,  all  because  the 
story  of  Jesus  was  so  very,  very  new  to 
them.     Here  was  one  of  the  mistakes: 

^^How  many  gods  are  there  T'  asked 
our  missionary. 

Up  went  some  little  hands. 

^^ Fifteen!''  said  a  little  boy  named 
Shonter  San. 

''Twenty-fivef' said  Chrysanthemum, 
smiling  at  the  new  teacher,  *^we  have 
that  many  in  our  house,  I  heard  my 
father  say  so.  There's  the  honorable 
Buddha,  there's  the  god  of  long  life  with 
the  long  head,  there's  the  god  of  good 
luck  with  the  string  of  fish,  there's 
Jizu  Sam  a  the  children's  special  idol, 
there's  Kwannon  the  goddess  of  mercy 
with  her  hundred  hands,  there's  the  god 
of  wealth  with  his  rice  bags — and  oh! 
ever  and  ever  so  many  more!" 


Three  Little  Sisters  189 

But  our  missionary  was  far  from 
pleased  with  that  answer,  and  all  over 
again  she  told  them  about  the  one  true 
God,  and  about  the  ten  commandments, 
one  of  which  especially  said:  ^^Thou 
shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me, ' '  and 
the  other  one:  ^^Thou  shalt  not  make 
any  graven  image."  I  can't  tell  you 
all  she  said,  of  course,  but  I  think  God 
helped  her  make  this  all  very  clear  in- 
deed, for  after  that  one  lesson  Plum 
Blossom,  Chrysanthemum  and  Camellia 
understood  exactly  what  she  meant. 
They  talked  about  it  on  the  way  home. 

^^I  wonder  if  she  can  be  right  about 
our  idols  being  nothing  but  bits  of  stone 
and  wood?''  Chrysanthemum  said. 

^'I  wouldn't  be  at  all  surprised!" 
said  Plum  Blossom,  ^'for  once  when  I 
asked  our  honorable  parent  why  the 
idols  never  ate  the  rice  we  offered  them, 
he  said  the  honorable  gods  are  so  great 
they  can  eat  the  spirit  of  the  rice,  with- 
out eating  the  rice  itself.  That  seems 
awfully  queer!" 

Chrysanthemum    said:    **I    tell   you 


iQO  Twenty-fourth  Story 

what  I  think — I  think  it's  awfully  queer 
that  we  three  little  girls  can  skip  around 
all  day  long,  but  the  honorable  idols 
never  budge  the  tiniest  bit  from  the 
place  where  we  set  them!  Once  I  saw 
the  wind  blow  one  of  our  idols  off  the 
god-shelf.  He  fell  on  his  nose,  and  he 
couldn't  get  up  again,  he  didn't  even 
seem  to  try,  so  I  just  had  to  put  him 
back  myself." 

Even  the  quiet  little  Camellia  spoke 
up:  ^^I've  heard  them  beat  great  gongs 
and  ring  loud  bells  in  the  temples  to 
wake  up  the  idols,  but  it  never  seems  to 
wake  them  up  at  all !  Their  stone  eyes 
never  blink  the  way  mine  do  when  I 
wake  up!" 

You  never  would  have  guessed  to  see 
those  three  gay  paper  parasols  bounc- 
ing along  the  street,  that  the  three  lit- 
tle heads  under  them  were  full  of  such 
big  new  ideas,  I  am  sure !  I  think  they 
had  learned  a  great  deal  for  their  very 
first  Sunday  in  Sunday-school,  don't 
you? 


TWENTY-FIFXH  STOKY 
Jesas  is:  "The  Rose  of  Sharon" 

THE    IDOL    WHO    COULD    NOT 
HELP    HIMSELF 


1.  What  did  the  sisters  hide  in  the  ground  with 
aever  a  whisper,  and  never  a  sound? 


Ans. 


2.  What  is  the  name  of  the  mountain  so  dear  that 
in  Japanese  pictures  'twill  often  appear? 


Ans. 


3.  Tell  how  the  father  was  dressed  when  he  went 
as  a  pilgrim  to  make  the  sacred  ascent? 


Ans. 


4.  Tell  what  he  went  up  hoping  to  gain,  which  only 
a  Christian  could  finally  explain. 


Ans. 


191 


TWENTY-FIFTH  STORY 

**THE    IDOL    WHO    COULD    NOT 
HELP    HIMSELF'' 

I  HOPE  you  have  not  forgotten  how 
Chrysanthemum,  Plum  Blossom  and 
Camellia  went  to  Sunday-school  for  the 
first  time  and  heard  our  missionary  tell 
about  how  useless  the  idols  were.  For 
to-day  I  am  going  to  tell  you  what  the 
three  little  girls  did  after  they  got 
home! 

Chrysanthemmn  tip-toed  softly  over 
to  the  idol-shelf  and  took  down  the  idol 
whose  name  is  Buddha.  He  was  carved 
out  of  wood,  and  was  sitting  on  the 
petals  of  a  water  lily.  Bowing  quite 
politely  she  whispered  to  him:  ^^Honor- 
able Buddha,  I  am  going  to  make  a  hole 
in  the  garden  and  cover  you  all  up  with 
the  earth.  If  you  can  get  out  of  the 
ground  and  back  on  your  shelf  then 
I  will  know  you  are  great  and  strong, 
192 


Idol  Who  Could  Not  Help  Himself    193 

and  we  will  all  keep  right  on  worship- 
ping you.  But  I  guess  if  you  aren't 
strong  enough  to  help  yourself,  you 
can't  help  us  much!" 

Plum  Blossom  was  just  as  eager  as 
Chrysanthemum  to  see  what  would  hap- 
pen, but  Camellia  began  to  cry,  because 
she  was  sure  something  perfectly  awful 
was  going  to  happen  to  them  for  doing 
such  a  wicked  thing !  She  watched  her 
two  sisters  dig  the  hole  and  hide  the 
Buddha,  then  they  all  went  indoors  and 
tried  to  act  just  as  if  they  were  not 
full  of  their  tremendous  secret ! 

The  next  day  absolutely  nothing  had 
happened  as  far  as  they  could  see,  so 
they  spen^  most  of  the  day  watching 
their  father  get  ready  to  make  a  pil- 
grimage up  a  mountain  in  Japan  about 
which  I  want  to  tell  you. 

It  is  called  Fujiyama,  and  is  the  one 
place  in  all  Japan  that  everybody  loves. 
They  love  it  so  much  that  artists  paint 
it  on  fans  and  dishes  and  trays  and 
screens.  I  think  you  have  probably  seen 
it  yourself  on  something  Japanese — a 


194  Twenty-fifth  Story 

beautiful  mountain  with  pure  white 
snow  at  the  top.  During  the  summer 
months  thousands  of  Japanese  people 
climb  Fujiyama  to  worship  the  gods  at 
the  top,  and  get  rid  of  their  sins,  which 
was  what  the  little  girls'  father  was  go- 
ing to  do. 

They  were  very  much  surprised  to 
see  that  he  was  dressed  all  in  white,  for 
that  is  quite  unusual  in  Japan,  where 
people  only  wear  white  when  they  are 
in  mourning,  instead  of  black,  as  we  do 
here.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  very  large 
hat  to  keep  off  the  sun  and  rain.  He 
held  a  staff  in  his  hand,  and  around  his 
waist  was  tied  a  belt  with  little  bells 
which  tinkled  as  he  walked.  He  carried 
a  roll  of  matting  on  his  back,  to  use  as 
a  bed  at  night. 

^^ Honorable  father,"  begged  Chrys- 
anthemum, ^^do  tell  us  what  you  will  do 
when  you  get  to  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tain r' 

^^We  will  worship  the  god  of  the 
sacred  mountain,  little  daughter,  for 
there  is  a  little  shrine  up  there  built  of 


Idol  Who  Could  Not  Help  Himself     19S 

stones.  Then  we  will  stay  all  night,  so 
we  can  worship  the  sun  as  it  rises  up 
from  the  sea  in  the  morning.  Then 
when  we  come  down  from  the  sacred 
mountain  we  will  have  left  our  sins  be- 
hind us.'' 

Plum  Blossom  had  a  question,  too: 
**But  why  is  Fujiyama  called  sacred, 
honorable  father "?'' 

This  is  what  the  father  said:  ^^Has 
my  daughter  ever  noticed  that  the  god 
Buddha  on  the  idol-shelf  is  sitting  on 
a  lotus  flower — the  flower  that  looks  like 
a  water  lily?" 

You  just  ought  to  have  seen  those 
three  little  girls  then,  for  that  was  the 
very  idol  they  had  buried  in  the  garden ! 
It  was  all  Plum  Blossom  could  do  to 
say  yes,  she  knew  the  idol  her  father 
meant. 

''Well  then,"  he  explained,  ''we  think 
that  Fujiyama  is  like  a  lotus  flower.  It 
is  snowy- white  above  and  green  beneath, 
just  as  the  lotus  is.  We  feel  that  just 
as  the  images  of  Buddha  show  him  sit- 


196  Twenty-fifth  Story 

ting  on  a  lotus  flower,  so  he  must  be 
sitting  up  on  the  Fujiyama  glorified. 
It  is  too  deep  for  little  girls  to  under- 
stand, I  fear/' 

Then  he  left.  He  was  away  six  days, 
and  every  day  the  three  sisters  went  out 
to  the  garden  to  see  if  anything  had 
happened  to  the  idol.  On  the  sixth  day 
they  saw  a  tiny  green  shoot  coming  out 
of  the  ground. 

^'The  idol  is  growing  into  a  big  tree !" 
whispered  Plum  Blossom,  and  knelt 
down  and  knocked  her  head  very  po- 
litely to  the  idol  who  really  did  seem 
able  to  do  something,  after  all. 

But  Chrysanthemum  carefully  dug 
down  into  the  earth  and  saw  that  it  was 
only  a  tiny  grain  of  rice,  left  on  the 
idol's  arm,  which  had  sprouted  and 
grown.  But  the  idol  himself  looked  ex- 
actly as  wooden  and  helpless  as  ever. 

*^Well!''  said  Chrysanthemum,  ^^I 
don't  think  Buddha  is  one  bit  of  good, 
he  couldn't  even  do  what  a  tiny  grain 
of  rice  did!" 


Idol  Who  Could  Not  Help  Himself     197 

So  Plum  Blossom  got  up  from  her 
knees,  and  carried  the  helpless  old  idol 
back  into  the  house.  And  there  she  met 
her  father,  just  back  home,  tired  and 
very  dusty. 

''You  must  have  left  your  sins  behind 
you  on  the  mountain,  honored  father!" 
she  said,  ''you  look  so  happy." 

The  father  reached  in  his  long  sleeve 
and  pulled  out  a  little  package  wrapped 
up  in  a  bundle  handkerchief,  the  Japa- 
nese call  it  a  ftirusJiiki,  and  drew  out 
a  little  black  book  which  you  and  I 
would  know  in  a  minute  was  a  Bible, 
although  none  of  the  others  had  ever 
seen  one  before.  He  explained  how  a 
Japanese  Christian  had  climbed  Fuji- 
yama with  him  and  the  other  pilgrims, 
not  to  worship  the  idols  at  the  top,  but 
to  tell  the  pilgrims  about  Jesus,  and  to 
give  them  each  a  Bible.  So  Vay  up  on 
beautiful  Fujiyama  the  father  had  be- 
come a  Christian,  and  he  didn't  care  at 
all  when  they  told  him  about  burying 
the  idol,  for  just  as  you  can't  imagine 


igS  Twenty-fifth  Story 

picking  thorns  and  weeds  when  there  is 
a  wonderful  rose  to  be  gathered,  so  you 
can't  imagine  worshipping  idols  when 
you  come  to  love  Jesus,  'Hhe  Rose  of 
Sharon.'' 


TWENTY-SIXTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:   "The  Rose  of  Sharon" 

THE  FOUR  R's 


1.  Tell  of  the  bath  the  small  sisters  took,  so  hot 
they  really  could  almost  cook! 


Ans. 


2.  What  was  the  name  of  the  carriage  so  queer, 
pulled  by  a  horse  who  could  both  talk  and  hear? 


Ans. 


3.  Tell   two   queer  things   about   Japanese   books — 
where,  in  beginning,  a  Japanese  looks? 


4.  What  do  they  write  with  in  Japanese  schools? 
And  on  what  do  they  learn  their  arithmetic  rules? 


Ans. 


199 


TWENTY-SIXTH  STORY 

'^THE    FOUR   R's'' 

After  the  father  of  Chrysanthemum, 
Plum  Blossom  and  Camellia  joined  our 
church  in  Japan,  our  missionary  said 
to  him:  '^ Would  it  not  be  wise  to  send 
your  honorable  daughters  to  our  school, 
so  they  can  learn  to  read  and  write?'' 

He  thought  it  would  be  a  very  good 
idea,  indeed,  and  I  don't  need  to  tell 
you  how  delighted  they  were!  Their 
mother  scrubbed  them  up  so  well,  that 
it  actually  hurt!  The  Japanese  bath 
tub  looks  like  a  barrel,  with  a  stove  in 
the  side  to  heat  the  water,  which  is 
really  almost  boiling  hot — hotter  than 
you  or  I  could  possibly  stand. 

After  breakfast,  their  mother  gave 
them  each  a  paper  umbrella  in  case  it 
should  rain,  and  she  hung  a  little  silk 
bag  with  a  jar  of  rice  inside  it  on  the 

200 


The  Four  R's  201 

left  arm  of  each  excited  little  girl.  This 
was  for  their  luncheon.  Then  their  fa- 
ther called  a  jinrikisha  to  drive  them 
to  school.  A  jinrikisha  looks  like  an 
old-fashioned  two-wheeled  buggy  with 
a  hood  over  it,  and  there  is  a  man  to 
pull  it  instead  of  a  horse.  They  squeezed 
inside  it,  and  off  the  man  started  toward 
the  school. 

Such  bowing  as  had  to  be  done  at 
school !  It  almost  seemed  as  if  that  was 
all  they  would  get  done  that  day.  The 
three  little  sisters  were  dreadfully  sur- 
prised not  to  sit  on  the  floor,  but  on 
benches  before  little  desks,  exactly  like 
those  you  and  I  have.  By  and  by 
Chrysanthemum's  legs  got  so  tired  dan- 
gling in  mid  air,  that  she  just  tucked 
them  under  her,  and  felt  more  comfort- 
able! 

You  would  be  surprised  to  see  a 
Japanese  book,  and  learn  that  they  he- 
gin  to  read  at  what  we  call  the  end,  and 
they  read  down  the  page  from  riglit  to 
left,  [Teacher  please  illustrate  with  a 
book.]     That  means  that  the  title  of 


202  Twenty-sixth  Story 

their  book  is  on  what  we  call  the  back 
cover,  and  the  end  of  their  book  is 
where'  we  would  expect  the  beginning ! 
In  our  bookcases  we  like  to  place  books 
on  end,  in  rows;  but  the  Japanese  lay 
them  flat  on  their  sides,  and  pile  them 
up  in  columns. 

The  Japanese  people  do  not  make 
letters  like  ours,  but  very  queer-looking 
characters  which  are  made  with  a  brush 
(dipped  in  ink)  instead  of  a  pen. 
Chrysanthemum  and  Camellia  copied 
their  letters  quite  well,  but  poor  Plum 
Blossom  had  a  very  mussy  time,  get- 
ting ink  all  over  herself!  All  three  of 
them  got  their  papers  so  sopping  wet 
with  the  strange  black  ink,  that  our 
missionary  said  they  had  better  carry 
their  sheets  of  paper  out  doors,  and 
hang  them  up  to  dry  at  recess  time, 
while  they  ate  their  rice. 

After  recess  they  had  their  arithmetic 
class,  and  used  a  soraban,  which  is  a 
counting  machine  made  of  a  frame  with 
wires  stretched  across  it,  and  beads 
strung  on  the  wires.    Even  clerks  in  the 


The  Four  R's  203 

banks  and  in  the  stores  do  all  their 
counting  on  sorabans. 

There  was  a  story  hour  in  school,  too, 
with  stories  and  pictures  about  what 
Jesus  did  when  He  was  here  among 
men.  Altogether  that  first  day  at 
school  was  very  wonderful  to  them,  and 
they  went  home  just  full  of  things  to 
tell  their  mother.  It  was  a  little  dis- 
appointing to  find  that  there  was  a 
caller  visiting  them,  a  lady  who  was 
Mrs.  Cherry  Blossom,  whom  I  first  told 
you  about  way  over  in  New  York  City. 
She  had  come  back  to  Japan,  with  many 
wonderful  stories  of  America  and  of  our 
church  for  Japanese  people  in  New 
York  City. 

^^We  go  to  church  now,  too!"  said 
Chrysanthemum,  watching  Mrs.  Cherry 
Blossom  drinking  her  tea  and  wrapping 
up  all  the  little  cakes  she  could  not  eat 
then,  to  take  home  with  her.  That  is 
the  polite  thing  to  do  in  Japan,  of 
course. 

Then  Mrs.  Cherry  Blossom  said  ex- 
actly what  you  and  I  are  thinking :  that 


204  Twenty-sixth  Story 

it  really  doesn't  matter  at  all  how  beau- 
tiful the  lovely  flowers  of  Japan  are,  or 
how  pretty  are  the  dear  little  gardens 
everywhere,  if  the  Japanese  people  do 
not  grow  ^^the  Rose  of  Sharon''  in  their 
hearts,  and  put  Jesus  first  of  all !  Per- 
haps it  will  help  to  fix  it  in  your  mind 
to  add  one  extra  R  to  the  ^^  Three  R's" 
the  children  were  learning  in  school: 
** Reading,  Writing,  Arithmetic" — the 
fourth  R  is  the  ^'Rose  of  Sharon"  which 
our  missionaries  are  planting  every  day. 


T\VENTY-SEVEXTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:    "The  Friend   of  little   Children" 

THE  FORGETMENOT  FAMILY 


There  once  was  a  cunning  little  straw  bonnet  which 
actually  told  about  what  was  on  it !  Write  down  all 
you  can  about  flowers  and  coats — just  nice  little, 
short  little,  memory  notes! 


205 


TWENTY-SEVENTH  STORY 

*^THE  FORGETMENOT  FAMILY'' 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  little 
girl  who  was  very  pretty,  and  she  knew 
it !  It  is  really  much  nicer  to  be  pretty, 
and  not  know  it  at  all.  But,  of  course, 
she  heard  people  say  how  pretty  she 
was,  so  she  looked  in  the  glass  and 
couldn't  help  but  agree  with  them  that 
her  eyes  were  like  f  orgetmenots  and  her 
cheeks  like  roses. 

^^I  could  be  prettier  yet,"  she  whis- 
pered to  herself,  ^'if  I  only  had  a  new 
blue  coat  with  lots  of  buttons  on  it,  and 
a  sweet  little  straw  hat  with  blue  f  orget- 
menots all  around  it.  Then  everybody 
would  say:  ^^ Isn't  she  the  prettiest  girl, 
and  the  flowers  in  her  hat  just  match 
her  eyes!" 

So  she  began  suggesting  this  and  that 
to  her  mother ;  and  the  consequence  was 
that  they  both  made  a  trip  down  town 
206 


The  Forgetmenot  Family        207 

and  bought  the  most  fetching  little  hat 
you  ever  saw,  with  darling  little  f orget- 
menots  all  around  it,  and  a  pretty  blue 
coat  with  dozens  of  buttons  up  and 
down  the  front.  She  felt  very  fine.  And 
she  really  did  look  very  nice,  although 
the  new  things  didn't  cost  very  much; 
in  fact,  I  don't  believe  her  new  things 
were  a  bit  j^rettier  than  the  ones  I  see 
you  wearing  this  morning. 

Saturday  night  she  could  hardly  wait 
for  Sunday  morning  to  come,  so  she 
could  wear  them  to  Sunday-school  and 
surprise  everybody.  AYhen  she  went  to 
bed  she  even  hung  the  little  new  hat  and 
coat  on  the  foot  of  her  bed,  so  she  could 
see  them  the  first  thing  in  the  morning. 

But  she  had  hardly  been  in  bed  a 
minute  before  her  hat  began  to  talk  to 
her !  She  was  very  much  surprised,  for 
she  never  knew  hats  could  talk  before. 

*^I'm  so  unhappy!"  cried  her  little 
Straw  Hat,  '^because  I  know  things 
about  your  clothes  I  think  you  ought  to 
know!" 

'^Oh  dear!"  cried  the  Little  Girl,  feeh 


2o8  Twenty-seventh  Story 

ing  frightened,  ^4s  anvthing  the  matter 
with  them  1  I  would  simply  die  if  any- 
thing happened  so  I  couldn't  show  them 
off  to-morrow  in  Sunday-school.'' 

^^Well,  no,"  said  the  Straw  Hat, 
*^ nothing's  the  matter  with  the  things 
themselves,  but  you  seem  to  think  so 
much  about  yourself  that  you  never  give 
even  the  tiniest  thought  to  how  there 
happened  to  be  hats  and  forgetmenots 
and  coats  and  buttons  in  the  stores  all 
ready  for  you  to  buy!  I  suppose  you 
know  such  things  don't  grow  on  trees!'' 

^^Of  course  I'm  not  as  foolish  as 
that!''  said  the  Little  Girl,  ^'I  suppose 
somebody  or  other  makes  them." 

^^Oh  that's  just  it!"  cried  the  Straw 
Hat,  *'I  just  hate  the  way  you  say 
^ somehochj  or  other/  as  if  it  didn't  mat- 
ter a  rap  to  you  who  made  them,  so  you 
could  be  called  prettier  than  usual  in 
them." 

^'Well,  who  did  make  them  anyhow?" 
asked  the  Little  Girl. 

^^The  Forgetmenot  Family!"  answer- 
ed the  Straw  Hat,  and  even  while  he 


The  Forgetmenot  Family         209 

said  the  words  the  Little  Girl  felt  her- 
self floating  right  out  of  bed,  right  out 
of  the  window,  she  even  floated  over 
miles  and  miles  of  roofs,  until  she  found 
herself  in  a  perfectly  horrid  part  of 
town,  standing  in  a  dirty  smelly  room 
in  a  dirty,  dark  old  tenement  building. 

There  was  a  dim  gas-jet  burning,  and 
under  it  sat  two  tiny  little  girls,  one 
was  three  years  old,  the  other  four. 
They  were  working  just  as  hard  as  they 
possibly  could  making  forgetmenots. 
But  of  course  their  little  fingers  were 
rather  slow  and  clumsy  doing  it,  because 
they  were  really  nothing  but  babies,  and 
baby  fingers  found  it  hard  to  draw  a 
yellow  center  through  the  blue  velvet 
flower.  Yet  they  had  each  finished  a 
big  box  full  that  day,  and  were  afraid  to 
stop  until  their  mother  told  them. 

The  Straw  Hat  whispered  to  the 
Little  Girl:  '^Teresa  has  made  500  for- 
getmenots to-day,  so  she  will  get  five 
cents  to  give  her  father.  But  Miche- 
lina  has  only  made  two  hundred,  she  is 


210  Twenty-seventh  Story 

so  tiny  and  she  gets  so  sleepy  that  she 
forgets  to  work.  Her  father  will  be 
very  cross  when  she  only  gives  him  two 
cents  to-night.'' 

^'Oh  dear!  Oh  dear!"  cried  the  Little 
Girl,  ^^Is  that  how  I  got  my  forgetme- 
nots?  Why  I  do  believe  the  little  girl 
you  call  Michelina  is  cross-eyed?" 

^^Yes,  she  is!"  said  the  Straw  Hat. 
^^She  has  to  look  very  closely  at  the  for- 
getmenots  and  her  eyes  are  weak,  so  the 
muscles  have  contracted.  That  is  her 
mother  over  there  sewing  on  button 
after  button  after  button  so  little  girls 
can  have  dozens  of  them  up  and  down 
the  fronts  of  their  coats.  She  hardly 
takes  time  to  eat  all  day,  she  just 
sews  on  buttons.  Her  f  ourteen-3^ear  old 
daughter  works  in  the  button  factory 
making  buttons,  and  the  father  works 
in  the  clothing  factory  sewing  blue  coats 
like  yours.  Then  there  is  a  son  who 
works  in  a  hat  factory  where  straw 
hats,  like  me,  are  made !  Factories  are 
rather  horrid  places,  stuffy  and  oily, 


The  Forgetmenot  Family        211 

with  noisy  machinery  whirring  all 
around.  So  now  you  see  you  really 
wouldn't  look  nearly  so  pretty  if  it 
weren't  for  this  Somebody  or  other 
Forgetmenot  Family!" 

^^I've  been  such  a  selfish  nasty  little 
girl,  haven't  IV'  the  Little  Girl  said, 
and  then  presto!  she  was  back  in  bed, 
and  her  mother  was  saying:  ^^Why  no, 
I  don't  think  so,  dear.  You  must  be 
dreaming.  Wake  up,  and  get  dressed, 
for  it's  Sunday  morning." 

The  Little  Girl  wore  her  pretty  new 
things  all  day,  but  she  entirely  forgot 
how  pretty  she  probably  looked  in  them, 
because  she  kept  remembering  the  For- 
getmenot Family  that  made  them. 

Of  course, ' '  somebody  or  other ' '  makes 
all  the  pretty  things  you  and  I  wear, 
and  I  think  the  Friend  of  Little  chil- 
dren wants  us  to  remember  that  while 
new  clothes  are  very  nice  to  wear,  they 
are,  oh!  so  very  hard  to  make!  It  will 
make  us  like  the  clothes  better  if  we. 
remember   these   busy   people    in   our 


212  Twenty-seventh  Story 

prayers:  '^God  bless  all  the  people  in 
factories  who  have  helped  make  things 
for  me  to  wear  to-day,  and  bless  our 
missionaries  who  are  making  them  hap- 
pier every  day.    Amen/' 


TWENTY-EIGHTH   STORY 
Jesus   is:    *'The  Friend   of  little   Children" 

TIN  CANS  AND  OTHER  CANS 


1.  Who  is  it  strings  the  canned  string  bean  so  often 
on  your  table  seen? 

Ans 

2.  Who  is  it  shucks  the  oyster  shells,   until   ench 
finger  bleeds   and  swells? 


Ans. 


3.  Who  is  it  helps  Thanksgiving  Day,  by  picking 
cranberries  red  and  gay? 


Ans. 


4.  Wlio   is  it   scales  each  gray   sardine,   and   cans 
them  tight — no  room  between? 

Ans 

5.  Who  is  it  can  really  help  to  cause  the  making 
of  better  Child  Labor  laws? 


Ans. 


213 


TWENTY-EIGHTH  STORY 

"TIN  CANS  AND  OTHER  CANS" 

[Note:  The  teacher  may  add  to  the  effectiveness 
of  this  story  by  having  some  of  the  mentioned  articles 
to  show.] 

Once  there  was  a  boy  named  Jack 
who  was  always  hungry.  Boys  often 
are !  I  dare  say  you  get  dreadfully  hun- 
gry yourself  every  day;  I'm  sure  your 
mother  expects  you  to — that  is  why  she 
spends  so  much  time  putting  things  up 
in  glass  jars  to  be  eaten  next  winter. 
Jack's  mother  did  that  same  thing,  and 
she  also  bought  a  great  many  canned 
goods — tomato  cans  with  pictures  of 
juicy  red  tomatoes  on  the  labels,  sardine 
cans  with  silvery  fishes  on  the  labels, 
etc.,  etc.  The  day  they  came  home  from 
the  store  there  were  so  many  of  them 
that  she  asked  Jack  to  put  them  in  neat 
rows  on  the  pantry  shelves.  He  worked 
all  day,  and  that  night  he  said  to  his 
mother:  ^^I  tell  you  what,  mother,  if  it 
214 


Tin  Cans  and  Other  Cans        215 

wasn't  for  me,  you  wouldn't  have  all 
those  things  ready  for  the  winter,  would 
your' 

*^Well  of  course  you  did  help  a  lot," 
his  mother  answered,  ^^but  so  many 
other  boys  and  girls  helped,  too,  that 
you  really  are  only  one  of  about  a  hun- 
dred or  so!" 

Jack  looked  perfectly  astonished: 
^^Why  mother,  there  hasn't  been  an- 
other boy  or  girl  in  this  house  all  day 
long!  I  did  every  speck  of  that  work 
myself,  honest  Injtm^'' 

She  smiled  at  him  as  if  she  had  a 
secret,  then  she  went  to  the  pantry  and 
brought  back  a  few  tin  cans  and  some 
oysters  and  cranberries.  Putting  them 
in  a  row  on  the  table,  she  said:  *' Let's 
begin  with  the  string  beans.  Jack.  First 
of  all,  somebody  picked  them,  and  sent 
them  to  a  canning  factory.  Then  some- 
body there  was  told  to  string  the  beans, 
and  I'm  sorry  to  say  that  hundreds  of 
little  children  helped  do  it.  They  tell 
me  that  no  machine  that  has  ever  been 
made  can  snip  off  the  ends  as  well  as 


2i6  Twenty-eighth  Story 

the  fingers  of  little  boys  and  girls. 
Sometimes  they  are  Italian  boys  and 
girls,  only  five  or  six  years  old.  They 
get  so  tired  working  all  day  long.  This 
tomato  can  has  the  same  kind  of  a  story 
to  tell,  of  lots  of  little  children  under 
fourteen  working,  working,  working." 

^^ Don't  they  go  to  school?"  asked 
Jack. 

^^Not  every  day,  of  course,  for  while 
there  are  vegetables  to  be  canned  the 
children  are  needed.  Perhaps  you  can 
imagine  how  hard  it  would  be  to  miss 
three  or  four  months  of  school  at  a  time. 
It  makes  them  always  behind.  Now 
here  is  a  can  of  sardines  which  are  can- 
ned in  a  factory  in  Maine  by  little 
Canadian  children.  Perhaps  you  never 
heard  that  sardines  are  caught  in  big 
nets  called  seines.  Whenever  a  boat-load 
of  fish  is  brought  in,  a  whistle  blows. 
Then  you  ought  to  see  the  little  children 
running  from  all  directions!  Perhaps 
some  of  them  had  been  asleep,  or  play- 
ing— but  whatever  they  were  doing  they 
must  stop  and  run  straight  to  the  fac- 


Tin  Cans  and  Other  Cans        217 

tories  to  begin  their  work  of  flaking  off 
the  fish  scales.  It  isn't  that  it's  such 
hard  work,  but  children  are  entirely  too 
young  and  tender  to  work  so  many, 
many  hours  at  a  time.  Lots  of  the  boys 
and  girls  are  only  nine  years  old.  They 
can't  get  to  school,  either,  so  it  means 
they  will  grow  up  rather  stupid,  and 
their  tired  backs  will  be  bent  and 
crooked  all  the  rest  of  their  lives." 

'^It's  just  horrid,  isn't  it?"  Jack  said. 

"Indeed  it  is!"  his  mother  agreed. 
"Now  here  are  some  oysters.  I  wonder 
if  you  know  they  are  not  soft  and 
watery  down  south  in  Florida  when 
they  are  gathered.  They  grow  in  oyster 
banks,  with  rough  heavy  shells  all 
around  them.  Men  gather  cartload  af- 
ter cartload  of  oysters  in  their  tough 
bony  shells,  and  take  them  to  the  fac- 
tories where  little  Polish  children  shuck 
them,  which  means  taking  off  the  hard 
heavy  shell  so  the  soft  watery  inside 
part  of  the  oyster  can  be  canned.  They 
work  all  day  until  their  fingers  get 
swollen  and  bleeding  from  the  broken 


2i8  Twenty-eighth  Story 

shells.  They  only  get  five  cents  for  a 
long  day's  work!  They  tell  me  some  of 
the  children  are  only  four  or  five  years 
old,  and  once  when  some  missionaries 
and  other  kind  people  tried  to  pass  a 
law  forbidding  the  canning  factories 
from  letting  such  tiny  children  work  so 
hard,  the  factory  owners  said :  ^^Oh  well, 
it's  not  as  if  they  were  American  chil- 
dren— for  they're  only  little  foreign- 
ers!^^ 

Jack  looked  rather  mad.  '^Mjl  what 
dreadful  men  they  must  be!"  he  said. 

His  mother  sighed.  ^ '  The  queer  part 
about  it  is,  I  suppose  they  were  very 
nice  to  their  own  boys  and  girls,  perhaps 
they  even  went  to  church  on  Sundays; 
but  of  course  something  was  very  wrong 
in  their  hearts.  They  had  no  real  love 
for  Jesus  there,  or  else  they  would  have 
remembered  He  was  the  ^^  Friend  of 
Little  Children."  Now  here  are  the 
cranberries  which  we  love  to  begin  eat- 
ing on  Thanksgiving  Day !  Cranberries 
grow  in  bogs  where  there  are  lots  of 
mosquitoes!     Italian  families  pick  the 


Tin  Cans  and  Other  Cans        219 

cranberries;  and  when  I  say  families, 
I  mean  not  only  the  mothers  and  fa- 
thers, but  all  their  children,  even  down 
to  the  little  baby!  They  all  go  out  to- 
gether in  the  early  morning  and  pick, 
pick,  pick,  all  day  long!  Red  cranber- 
ries! Eed  cranberries!  Red  cranber- 
ries— day  after  day.  They  get  so  sick 
of  them!'' 

When  his  mother  stopped  talking. 
Jack  said:  ^'I  suppose  there's  a  story 
about  every  tin  can  if  we  only  knew 
it.  I  wish  there  was  somebody  who 
could  help  all  those  kids  you've  just 
been  telling  me  about. ' ' 

''Well,"  said  his  mother,  ''here  are 
some  other  cans :  Missionaries  can,  and 
I  can,  and  you  can!  We  can  all  help. 
Some  day  you  will  be  old  enough  to  vote, 
then  you  can  have  some  'say'  about 
these  bad  laws  which  let  little  children 
work.  A  Christian  boy  can  always  find 
ways  to  help  the  'Friend  of  Little  Chil- 
dren,' if  he  cares  enough!" 

Jack  answered:  "You  bet  he  can!" 


TAMENTY-NINTH  STORY 

Jesus   is:    '*The   Friend   of   little   Children" 

WHO  WARMS  YOUR  HOUSE  IN 
WINTER 


^ 


A 


1.  Who  made  the  box  the  matches  to  hold — ^some- 
body somewhere  not  ten  years  old? 


Ans. 


2.  How  many  persons  are  needed  to  make  the  morn- 
ing newspaper  for  father's  sake? 


Ans.    (1) (2) 

(3) (4) (5) 

(6) (7) 


3.  What  people  help  you,  from  miner  to  seller,  to 
get  hard  coal  ready  to  dump  in  your  cellar? 

Ans 


220 


TWENTY-NINTH  STORY 

"WHO  WAEMS  YOUR  HOUSE  IN 
WINTER?" 

[Note:  The  teacher  may  add  to  the  effectiveness 
of  this  story  by  having  these  four  articles  on  hand.] 

One  winter  Tom  earned  ten  cents  a 
week  helping  his  father.  He  did  all 
sorts  of  things  down  in  the  cellar,  like 
shoveling  the  ashes  out  of  the  furnaces, 
putting  on  coal  through  the  day,  chop- 
ping wood,  and  lots  of  other  little 
chores.    He  did  it  very  well,  too. 

One  day,  quite  by  mistake,  his  fa- 
ther let  the  furnace  fire  go  out.  Of 
course  the  house  got  very  cold,  because 
it  was  in  the  month  of  January.  But 
by  the  time  his  father  came  home  from 
work,  Tom  had  everything  all  ready  for 
his  father  to  lay  paper,  then  the  kin- 
dling wood,  then  the  coal  into  the  fur- 
nace. So  it  was  only  a  minute  before 
his  father  drew  a  little  box  of  matches 

221 


222  Twenty-ninth  Story 

from  his  pocket,  struck  a  mateli  and 
lighted  the  paper. 

Crackle!  Crackle!  Snap!  Crack!  Zip! 
Snap!  Crackle! 

Yes,  the  fire  was  surely  started.  As 
they  stood  down  there  with  their  hands 
in  their  pockets  waiting  for  it  to  burn 
up,  Tom  said  proudly  to  his  father:  ^^I 
tell  you  what  father,  if  it  wasn't  for 
you  and  me  doing  all  this,  I  guess 
mother  and  the  girls  would  just  about 
freeze,  w^ouldn't  theyT' 

His  father  had  to  smile  to  see  how 
very  important  Tom  felt ;  then  he  said : 
*'Well,  let  me  see,  Tom,  I  hardly  know 
about  that,  I  wouldn't  be  at  all  sur- 
prised if  it  took  at  least  one  hundred 
other  people  to  help  us  start  this  fire, 
— even  a  canary  bird  helped!" 

You  ought  to  have  heard  Tom  laugh ! 
^^Well  I  like  that!"  he  said.  ^^ Didn't 
I  split  the  kindling,  and  shovel  the  coal, 
and  get  the  old  newspapers  all  crushed 
up  ready  for  you?  Why,  not  another 
soul  has  been  down  in  this  cellar  for 
days,  Dad — honest  Injun!" 


Who  Warms  Your  House?       223 

Tom's  father  sat  down  on  a  big  box, 
and  ticked  off  the  things  on  his  fingers : 
''Well,  let  me  see:  'First  we  used  a 
match,  then  a  newspaper,  then  wood, 
then  coal.  That's  four  things.  Let's 
begin  with  the  match  box.  Here  it  is 
— tell  me  what  it  says  right  there  on  the 
cover'?" 

Tom  leaned  over  and  read  where  his 
father  pointed:  "Made  in  Japan." 

' '  All  right ! ' '  said  his  father.  ' '  Then 
first  of  all  it  took  a  very  tiny  little  Jap- 
anese girl  to  help  us  make  our  furnace 
fire.  For  'way  over  the  sea  in  certain 
Japanese  towns  there  are  poor  little 
Japanese  girls  and  boys  who  make 
match  boxes  like  this  all  day  long,  day 
in  and  day  out.  How  much  do  you  sup- 
pose they  get  for  them?" 

Tom  turned  the  frail  little  box  over 
and  over  in  his  hand:  "I  don't  know, 
sir.    Perhaps  two  cents  apiece!" 

Tom's  father  put  the  box  back  in  his 
pocket  again  as  he  said:  "My  dear  fel- 
low, that  would  be  a  regular  fortune 
to  those  poor  children,  for  they  only  get 


224  Twenty-ninth  Story 

8  cents  for  a  thousand  boxes !  Perhaps 
you  can  figure  out  how  slow  their  little 
fingers  have  to  work  bending  the  sides 
and  pasting  them  together.'' 

Tom  whistled.  ' '  My !  only  eight  cents 
a  thousand!  Why,  you  give  me  all  of 
ten  cents  to  do  odd  jobs  down  here  in 
the  cellar.    Say,  that's  fierce,  isn't  if?" 

His  father  went  on:  ^'Then  there's 
the  newspaper  we  used  for  our  fire. 
Now  once  newspapers  were  trees!" 

'^Whatr'  gasped  Tom:  ^^ Trees?" 

''Yes,  trees  way  out  in  some  big  for- 
est. It  took  several  rough  lumber  jacks, 
off  in  the  lonely  woods  far  away 
from  churches  and  schools  and  stores, 
to  cut  down  the  particular  tree  that 
finally  became  this  newspaper.  It  took 
an  engineer  to  run  the  engine  that 
pulled  the  freight  car  on  which  our  tree 
was  piled.  Then  it  took  a  good  many 
different  men  in  the  factory  to  make  the 
tree  over  into  wood  pulp,  and  still  more 
men  to  make  the  wood  pulp  over  into 
paper.  Then  it  took  a  lot  of  reporters 
and  telegraph  operators  as  well  as  type- 


Who  Warms  Your  House?       225 

setters  and  printers  to  print  the  words 
on  the  newspaper,  and  a  newsboy  to  de- 
liver it  to  our  door.  So  even  in  crush- 
ing the  old  newspaper  you  had  a  good 
many  helpers. ' ' 

^'Well,  I  should  say  I  did!''  said 
Tom.  ''Sort  of  hard  work  for  all  of 
them,  too,  wasn't  if?" 

''Indeed  it  was.  As  for  the  kindling 
wood  it  was  cut  down  and  chopped  up 
by  men  in  our  Rescue  Mission  here  in 
town,  men  who  used  to  spend  all  their 
times  in  saloons  until  they  got  jobs  like 
that." 

Tom  sighed:  "I  guess  the  last  little 
chop  I  gave  the  wood  wasn't  much  of  a 
stunt  then,  was  it?" 

"It  helped  me,  though,  Tom,  that 
counts !  Now  we  come  to  the  coal.  Per- 
haps you  know  there  is  liard  coal  and 
soft  coal.  You  and  I  couldn't  have  this 
hard  coal  burning  here  in  our  furnace 
if  it  weren't  for  soft  coal.  I'll  tell  you 
why :  because  there  have  to  be  steel  rails 
for  the  steel  coal  cars  to  travel  over, 
steel  typewriters  to  write  orders  for  the 


226  Twenty-ninth  Story 

coal,  steel  shovels  to  shovel  the  coal  into 
our  cellars.    In  order  to  have  steel,  there 
has  to  be  the  most  tremendously  hot  fire 
you  can  imagine — 200  huge  soft  coal 
ovens  burning  day  and  night,  with  men 
from  foreign  lands  in  charge  of  them, 
running  here  and  there  from  oven  to 
oven  to  fill  them  up.    The  heat  is  terrific. 
But  even  before  there  is  soft  coal  for 
the  oven,  other  strange  men  from  for- 
eign lands  had  to  go  deep,  deep  down  in 
the  earth  to  dig  out  the  coal.    That  was 
very   dangerous   work,    for   there   are 
gases  down  there  that  make  the  men 
faint  and  become  unconscious.    That's 
where  the  canary  comes  in!    For  these 
miners  carry  a  canary  in  a  cage  with 
them.    You  see,  the  canary  faints  from 
the  gases  several  minutes  before  the  men 
would  do  so,  so  it  gives  the  men  a  warn- 
ing to  rush  to  fresher  air.  Since  we  need 
soft  coal  and  steel  to  bring  hard  coal  to 
our  furnace,  I  can  hardly  count  up  how 
many  hundreds  of  persons  it  took  to 
help  you  and  me  make  this  fire — all  the 
way  from  the  Japanese  child  to  the  ca- 


Who  Warms  Your  House?       227 

nary  bird !  But  I  do  know  this,  it  was 
dangerous,  hard  work  for  all  of  them. 
These  are  only  a  few  of  the  things  we 
owe  to  the  immigrant  workmen  from 
over  the  sea." 

Tom  came  and  put  his  arm  on  his 
father's  shoulders:  ^'Say  Dad,"  he  said, 
'4t  makes  me  feel  awfully  cheeky  to 
think  I  boasted  about  doing  this  job 
alone!" 

Tom's  father  smiled:  ^^ That's  all 
right,  you  couldn't  know  without  being 
told  that  it  takes  such  a  lot  of  unknown 
persons  to  help  us  live.  I  think  God 
wants  us  to  honor  each  of  these  working 
men  in  our  thoughts.  He  loves  them 
exactly  as  well  as  He  loves  you  and  me. 
I'm  sure  He  doesn't  like  to  hear  us 
make  fun  of  them  just  because  their 
faces  and  clothes  get  smutty  and  dirty 
doing  our  hard  jobs,  or  because  they 
talk  languages  we  don't  understand. 
God  understands  them." 

Tom  dug  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
^^Dad,  you  know  the  fellows  I  know  call 
them  Wops  and  Dagoes  and  Sheenies. 


228  Twenty-ninth  Story 

It's  awfully  cheap  in  us  to  do  it,  isn't 

itr' 

* 'Rather!''  his  father  said  emphatic- 
ally. '^ What's  the  good  of  having  our 
fine  missionaries  working  for  such  peo- 
ple all  the  day  if  you  and  I  can't  even 
be  decently  Christian." 

^^Tlien  never  again!''  Tom  shouted, 
'^they  must  be  a  pretty  good  bunch  to 
do  all  they  do  for  us !" 


THIRTIETH   STORY 

Jesus   is:    "The   Fiieiid   of   little   Children" 

WANTED!    NEW    EYES! 


^^57T7T 


1.  What   kind   of   eyes    does   everyone   need — some 
of  us  very  badly  indeed? 


Ans. 


Write  in  your  own  words  a  short  little  theme  on 
the  kind  little  girl's  nice  little  dream : 


229 


THIRTIETH  STORY 

^^ WANTED!    NEW   EYES!" 

I  woxDER  if  you  have  guessed  that  I 
have  been  trying  to  give  each  of  you  a 
new  pair  of  eyes  the  last  three  Sun- 
days! No,  I  don't  mean  eye  glasses, 
Sit  all!  I  mean  eyes!  Something  that 
isn't  to  be  worn  all  day  and  taken  off 
when  you  go  to  bed  at  night,  but  some- 
thing that  will  be  such  a  part  of  yon, 
that  YOU  wouldn't  be  YOU  if  you 
didn't  have  eyes  like  that! 

Of  course,  very  special  eyes  like  these 
have  to  have  a  name,  and  I  think  *' mis- 
sionary eyes"  will  suit  them  pretty  well. 
Some  of  you  have  missionary  eyes  al- 
ready, without  knowing  it !  How  many 
of  you  will  ever  be  able  to  see  buttons, 
and  coats,  straw  hats  and  artificial  for- 
getmenots,  canned  beans,  and  sardines, 
or  cranberries  and  match  boxes,  with- 
out wondering  who  made  them?  Per- 
230 


Wanted!  New  Eyes  231 

haps  you  will  make  a  little  picture  in 
your  mind  about  them,  you  will  see  busy 
hurrying  fingers  and  bent  backs  work- 
ing away  all  day  long,— if  you  do,  why 
then  you  have  missionary  eyes!  For 
when  missionary  eyes  see  tilings,  some- 
how they  always  see  jjeople  too.  A 
newspaper  means  busy  reporters  and 
printers;  a  lump  of  coal  means  tired 
miners  with  smutty  faces  way  down  in 
the  earth;  cranberries  mean  Italian 
families  out  in  the  bogs  where  the  mos- 
quitoes are  thick;  of  course  sometimes 
the  story  will  be  hidden  away  some- 
where for  them  to  learn  about  some 
other  time. 

Missionary  eyes  can't  glare,  or  stare, 
or  wink  when  other  people  don't  look 
exactly  like  themselves.  They  remem- 
ber that  when  the  Friend  of  Little 
Children  was  here  among  men  He  did 
not  say:  ^^Let  all  the  clean,  nicely 
dressed  little  American  children  come 
unto  me!"  But  He  just  said:  ^^Let  the 
little  children  come  unto  me."  So  when 
missionary  eyes  see  little  foreign  chil- 


232  Thirtieth  Story 

dren  who  aren't  so  very  clean,  and  who 
have  queer  shawls  and  earrings  and 
caps,  they  smile !  smile !  smile !  But  it's 
the  kind  of  smile  that  is  friendly,  and 
never  hurts. 

Missionary  eyes  always  have  mission- 
ary hands.  Here  is  a  dream-story  to 
prove  it: 

Once  upon  a  time  a  Little  Girl  was 
out  walking.  By  and  by  she  came  to 
Heaven.  It  was  lovely  there,  for  she 
could  look  right  inside  the  gate.  Lots 
of  people  were  going  in,  so  she  said  to 
the  Angel  at  the  gate:  ^^ Could  I  please 
go  in  with  them?" 

^^But  those  are  the  King's  Help- 
ers," the  Angel  explained,  ^*Are  you  a 
Helper?" 

^^Why  I  don't  think  so!"  said  the 
Little  Girl.    ^^What  are  they?" 

^^The  King's  Helpers  do  beautiful 
things  for  the  King  with  their  money 
and  their  time  for  anybody  who  needs 
help.  The  King  keeps  all  their  names 
in  His  Book  of  Remembrance,  and  to- 
day He  has  invited  them  to  His  i^alace 


Wanted !  New  Eyes  233 

to  thank  them.  I  will  see  if  your  name 
is  in  His  Book.'' 

**0h  no,  thank  you!  You  really 
needn't  trouble  to  look!"  said  the  Little 
Girl.  **You  see,  I  haven't  any  money 
at  all,  and  I  haven't  any  time,  either, 
for  ever  since  father  died  I  have  to  work 
after  school  to  earn  money  for  the  house 
rent.  So  there's  no  chance  for  me  to 
be  a  Helper." 

She  was  turning  away,  when  the 
Angel  called  her  back:  ''Just  wait  a 
minute,  dear,  for  I  have  opened  the 
Book  of  Remembrance  and  I  see  quite 
a  number  of  things  you  have  done  for 
the  King." 

*'0h  really  r'  asked  the  Little  Girl, 
rvmning  back  to  the  Angel.  ''Why,  what 
can  they  be,  I  wonder '^" 

''Well,  the  Book  says  that  once  on  a 
very  hot  day  some  Italian  workmen 
were  fixing  the  street  in  front  of  your 
house.  You  saw  how  they  mopped  their 
hot  faces  with  big  red  handkerchiefs, 
so  you  carried  out  a  pitcher  of  cold 
water  to  them." 


234  Thirtieth  Story 

^^Oh  but  that  was  such  a  tiny  thing 
to  do!''  said  the  Little  Girl,  ^^it  only 
took  me  a  minute,  and  it  didn't  cost  me 
a  single  penny.  It  was  fun  though,  for 
they  grinned  all  over  their  nice  brown 
faces.  I  was  ever  so  surprised  they 
were  friendly!" 

^^Tlien  here  is  another  thing  the  King 
has  entered  in  His  Book  of  Remem- 
brance. Once  in  a  very  crowded  street 
car  you  gave  your  seat  to  a  negro 
washerwoman  carrying  home  a  big  bun- 
dle of  washing!" 

^^Yes,  I  remember  that,  too.  You 
see,  she  was  ever  so  tired.  Everybody  in 
the  car  got  to  laughing  at  her  because 
she  lurched  around  so  when  the  car 
started.  There  wasn't  a  strap  for  her 
to  hang  on  to,  you  know,  and  she  had 
the  biggest  hardest  bundle  to  carry  you 
ever  saw.  So  I  just  said:  ^You  take 
my  seat.  I  just  love  to  stand.'  So  you 
see,  it  wasn't  much  for  me  to  do,  was 
it?  I  didn't  suppose  the  King  noticed 
little  everyday  things  like  that ! ' ' 

*^0h,  but  He  does!"  said  the  Angel, 


Wanted!  New  Eyes  235 

^^Tliey  are  the  things  He  counts  the 
most.  Then  I  see  that  once  you  gave  a 
banana  to  a  little  Jewish  newsboy  down- 
town one  cold  winter  day." 

^^Oh,  did  ir'  asked  the  Little  Girl. 
^^I  don't  remember  that  at  all." 

*^It  was  like  this:"  read  the  Angel, 
*^the  banana  was  all  your  mother  had 
to  give  you  for  your  luncheon,  but  when 
you  saw  how  thin  and  starved  the  little 
fellow  looked  you  shoved  the  banana 
into  his  hand,  and  said:  ^I'm  sorry  it 
isn't  nice  warm  soup.  But  it's  all  T 
have!'  " 

The  Little  Girl  laughed  and  laughed : 
^'Oh  yes!  I  remember  now.  That  was 
the  day  I  got  so  awfully  hungry  for 
supper,  and  mother  simply  couldn't  un- 
derstand why !  I  didn't  tell  her,  either, 
for  I  thought  she  might  feel  badly  to 
know  I  had  had  so  little  to  give  away." 

''My  dear!"  said  the  Angel,  ''you 
have  missionary  eyes  and  hands!" 

^'Oh,  have  I  really?"  asked  the  Little 
Girl.    "Isn't  that  nice!    And  does  that 


236  Thirtieth  Story 

mean,  then,  that  I  have  really  helped 
the  King,  dear  AngeH" 

But  just  then  the  King  Himself  stood 
before  her,  and  said  in  a  voice  like  the 
music  of  all  sweet  sounds:  ^'I  was 
hungry,  and  you  gave  me  to  eat ;  thirsty 
and  you  gave  me  to  drink;  a  stranger 
and  you  took  me  in.  For  inasmuch  as 
you  did  it  to  one  of  my  brothers,  even 
the  least,  you  did  it  unto  me.'' 


THIRXy-FIRST  STORY 

Jesus  said:  **I  am  the  Water  of  Life" 

THE   WOMAN   AT   THE   WELL 


1.  Describe  an  Arab  house  so  flat,  and  where  at 
night  the  family  chat. 

Ans 

2.  Tell   of  the   life   the   family   lead,    and   who   of 
them  knows  how  to  read? 

Ans 

3.  And  now  write  down  the  reason  why  the  Arabs 
fear  the  "Evil  Eye?" 

Ans 

4.  Tell  what  they  wear  on  neck  and  arm  to  keep 
themselves  from   feeling  harm. 

Ans 

237 


THIRTY-FIRST  STORY 

^'THE  WOMAN  AT  THE  WELL'^ 

One  day  wlien  Jesus  lived  here 
among  men,  He  was  very  tired  for  He 
had  been  walking  and  talking  all  day 
long,  so  He  sat  down  on  the  stone  curb 
of  a  well,  while  His  friends  went  into 
the  village  nearby,  to  get  something  to 
eat. 

Before  long  a  woman  from  the  village 
came  up  to  the  well,  carrying  a  clay 
water  jar  on  her  head.  Jesus  asked  her 
for  a  drink;  then,  because  He  always 
knows  what  is  in  people's  hearts,  He 
knew  that  she  had  not  always  been  good, 
but  that  she  was  thirsty  to  know  how 
to  be  better.  So  in  telling  her  that  He 
had  come  to  the  world  to  help  just  such 
thirsty  souls  as  hers.  He  said:  ^^I  am 
the  Water  of  Life,  if  you  drink  of  Me, 
you  will  never  thirst  again."  It  was 
just  the  kind  of  a  name  she  could  under- 
238 


The  Woman  at  the  Well         239 

stand  after  He  explained  it  to  her,  and 
she  was  so  delighted  that  she  ran  back 
to  the  village  to  ask  her  neighbors  to 
come  and  meet  Jesus.  The  Bible  even 
says  she  quite  forgot  to  take  her  water 
jar  back  with  her ! 

I  like  to  know  she  was  as  interested 
as  all  that,  don't  you?  To-day  I  have 
another  story  about  a  forgotten  water 
pot,  and  although  my  story  happened 
only  a  very  little  while  ago,  the  woman 
carried  the  same  kind  of  a  pot  on  her 
head  as  the  woman  to  whom  Jesus 
talked  so  many  hundreds  of  years  ago. 
She  lived  in  a  country  called  Arabia, 
quite  near  the  land  where  Jesus  lived! 
when  He  was  here  among  men. 

In  Arabia  the  people  build  square 
one-story  houses  with  flat  roofs.  At 
night  they  sit  up  on  the  roofs  and  watch 
the  stars;  but  in  the  daytime  you  will 
be  amused  to  hear  that  the  family  goats 
scramble  up  there  to  eat  the  grass  which 
is  growing  on  the  flat  dirt  roof ! 

The  inside  of  the  house  is  not  very 
attractive.    Part  of  it  is  raised  up  from 


240  Thirty-first  Story 

the  ground  several  steps — -the  family 
live  in  this  upper  part,  where  there  is 
no  furniture  but  a  few  mats  and  jars 
full  of  grain  and  flour.  In  the  unraised 
part  of  the  house  the  donkey  and  the 
goats  live, — ^with  no  partition  between 
the  two  halves  of  the  room ! 

In  one  of  these  flat  houses  there  lived 
a  little  Arab  girl  named  Sherin  (She- 
rin)  which  means  ^^ sweet''  in  English, 
although  there  was  not  much  that  was 
sweet  in  her  life  at  the  time  our  mis- 
sionary met  her.    It  was  like  this : 

One  morning  Sherin  was  grinding 
corn,  when  a  shadow  fell  inside  the 
doorway. 

*'Is  anybody  home  here?"  the  shadow 
asked  from  outside. 

Sherin  jumped  up  and  ran  to  the  door 
to  see  what  this  Talking  Shadow  looked 
like!    There  stood  our  missionary. 

'^Oh,  good  morning!''  she  said  pleas- 
antly. 

Sherin  smiled  a  very  shy  smile,  and 
bowed  using  the  polite  words  they  used 
to  worshipful  people  in  Arabia :  ^^I  take 


The  Woman  at  the  Well         241 

the  earth  from  beneath  your  .feet  and 
kiss  it!'' 

She  thought  all  honor  was  due  this 
remarkable  visitor,  who  wore  so  many 
wonderful  clothes.  For  one  thing  there 
was  her  liat — Sherin  could  hardly  take 
her  eyes  off  it,  for  she  never  had  seen 
one  before.  Then  she  found  her  shoes 
just  as  queer  and  interesting,  and  she 
thought  it  was  almost  past  belief  that 
this  astonishing  lady  wore  no  veil — my ! 
my !  For  in  Arabia  all  the  women  have 
to  wear  heavy  veils  over  their  faces  so 
no  one  can  see  them  on  the  street. 

However,  our  missionary  did  not  re- 
alize how  startling  a  sight  she  was 
and  although  Sherin  explained  that  her 
.mother  had  gone  to  the  well  for  water, 
taking  the  baby  with  her,  still  she 
thought  it  worth  while  to  stay  and  talk 
with  this  nice  little  girl.  They  had  the 
best  kind  of  a  time  together  for  our 
missionary  had  a  book  and  some  pic- 
tures with  her.  Sherin  nearly  fell  over 
with  surprise  when  our  missionary 
asked  her  if  she  could  read. 


242  Thirty-first  Story 

^^  Surely  Allah  did  not  intend  women 
to  be  learned!''  she  said,  '*for  I  never 
heard  of  a  woman  before  who  could 
read  at  all!" 

'^Not  even  one?"  asked  our  mission- 
ary sadly. 

^^No  one  but  you!"  answered  Sherin 
positively,  ^^even  my  father  cannot  read 
much,  although  he  wears  a  piece  of 
paper  tied  around  his  arm  with  a  verse 
from  the  Koran  on  it." 

^^What  does  he  do  that  for?" 
asked  our  missionary,  for  although  she 
thought  she  knew,  yet  she  found  it  so 
hard  to  believe  that  she  often  had  to 
ask  all  over  again ! 

'^Oh,  he  does  it  to  protect  him  from 
the  Evil  Eye!"  Sherin  explained.  ^^I 
think  my  father  wears  more  charms 
than  any  man  in  this  town — he  has  some 
holy  earth  from  Mecca  which  he  carries 
in  a  bag  around  his  neck,  then  there  are 
blue  beads  hanging  from  this  bag.  He 
wears  an  old  coin  hanging  from  one  of 
his  ears,  and  he  has  all  the  names  of 
Allah  and  Mohammed  fastened  around 


The  Woman  at  the  Well         243 

his  waist.  He  has  to  be  protected 
against  the  Evil  Eye  in  his  business, 
you  see.'' 

^^What  is  his  business?"  our  mission- 
ary asked. 

''Oh,  he  sells  dates  and  figs  in  the 
bazaar,  and  he  says  you  never  can  tell 
in  the  market  when  the  Evil  Eye  will 
hurt  you." 

Perhaps  you  don't  know  what  the 
''Evil  Eye"  is — it  is  rather  like  the  evil 
spirits  we  have  heard  a  good  deal  about 
already,  only  in  this  case  it  is  somebody 
instead  of  sometJiing  who  casts  his  or 
her  spell  on  you.  Arab  mothers  are  ter- 
ribly afraid  of  it,  and  whenever  they 
see  a  stranger  they  cover  their  babies 
with  part  of  their  shawls,  so  the 
stranger  can't  send  the  Evil  Eye  to  hurt 
their  little  ones.  They  wear  charms  all 
over  them,  too,  and  blue  beads  on  their 
caps  for  good  luck. 

Before  our  missionary  left  she  told 
Sherin  a  little  story  about  Jesus,  and 
asked  her  to  come  to  our  Sunday-school 


244  Thirty-first  Story 

in  that  town  in  Arabia.  Sherin  shyly 
said  she  would  come. 

About  ten  minutes  after  our  mission- 
ary had  gone,  Sherin 's  mother  rushed 
in  wildly.  '^Oh  Allah  help  me!"  she 
cried,  and  then  told  Sherin  the  dread- 
ful news  that  she  had  lost  the  haby! 

'^1  put  him  down  to  play  in  the  dirt 
beside  the  well,  while  I  talked  with 
some  of  the  women.  Along  came  a  white 
stranger,  some  of  the  women  nudged  me 
and  said:  ^She  is  the  Hat-Lady.'  She 
wears  no  veil  on  the  street,  but  a  queer 
hat  on  her  head  and  shoes  on  her  feet. 
And  although  I  rushed  over  to  cover 
up  baby's  face  so  she  could  not  cast  the 
Evil  Eye  on  him,  I  was  not  in  time,  for 
she  smiled  right  straight  at  him,  and 
then  walked  away.  I  felt  in  my  bones 
something  awful  would  happen,  I  re- 
member I  touched  the  charm  around 
my  neck  right  away.  But  then  someone 
got  to  telling  us  all  some  rare  gossip, 
and  I  listened  and  forgot  all  about  it, 
until  suddenly  I  discovered  the  baby 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen.    Then  I  knew 


The  Woman  at  the  Well         245 

the  Hat-Lady  had  cast  the  Evil  Eye  on 
hun  and  bewitched  liini  away  some- 
where !    Oh,  Allah  help  me ! ' ' 

Sherin  felt  a  thousand  ways  all  at 
once.  She  felt  sure  this  Hat-Lady  must 
have  been  the  same  one  who  had  just 
visited  her,  and  she  felt  positive  such  a 
wonderful  lady  could  not  cast  an  Evil 
Eye  on  anyone.  So  she  said  to  her 
mother:  *'And  where  is  your  water- jar'? 
Did  she  spirit  that  away,  too  '^^ 

^^Oh,  I  forgot  all  about  it!''  the 
mother  exclaimed.  '^I  left  it  standing 
on  the  well-curb.    You  run  and  get  it.'' 

So  Sherin  ran  off  to  the  well  to  bring 
home  the  water- jar,  and  she  found  the 
baby,  too.  You  see  while  his  mother 
was  talking  and  listening,  the  little  fel- 
low had  had  a  beautiful  time  crawling 
further  and  further  away  from  her, 
until  finally  he  crawled  right  into  some- 
body's house  and  went  sound  asleep! 
And,  of  course,  our  missionary  had 
nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it,  neither  did 
^'Evil  Eye";  but  Sherin 's  mother  said: 
^^This  is  what  comes  of  taking  the  swad- 


246  Thirty-first  Story 

dling  clothes  off  the  baby  so  soon,  if  he 
had  only  been  all  bandaged  up  then  he 
couldn't  have  crawled!  Mother's  own 
sweet  jar  of  milk  and  honey!  The 
apple  of  her  eye!  Her  sweet  pome- 
granate blossom." 

Which  just  shows  you  how  much  she 
loved  him! 


THIRTY-SECOND  STORY 
Jesus  said:  "I  am  the  Water  of  Life" 

^^PIVE   TIMES   A  DAY" 


1.  What   is   the   very    funny    rule   for   studying   in 
an  Arab  school? 


Ans. 


2.  Please  mention  all  the  things  you  can  of  what 
is  found  in  the  Koran. 


Ans. 


3.  Who   was   it   wrote   this   curious   book   and   tell 
what  else  he  undertook? 


Ans. 


4.  Tell    me    how    the    Arabs    pray    when    someone 
calls  five  times  a  day. 


Ans. 


247 


THIRTY-SECOND  STORY 

^^FIVE  TIMES  A  DAY!'' 

To-day  I  am  going  to  tell  you  about 
some  more  of  the  queer  things  Arab 
families  believe.  Last  Sunday  you  met 
Sherin,  a  little  Arab  girl,  so  to-day  I  am 
going  to  tell  you  about  her  brother 
Achmed.  He  went  to  school  in  a 
mosque, — an  Arab  school  it  Avas,  not  one 
bit  like  any  you  ever  heard  of  before. 
A  mosque  is  a  sort  of  temple  where  the 
Arabs  come  to  worship  Allah,  and  a 
great  many  schools  are  held  in  the 
unused  corners  of  the  mosque. 

Achmed  studied  only  one  book,  called 
the  Koran,  and  he  always  studied  it 
out  loud!  All  the  other  boys  had  to 
study  the  same  way,  so  you  can  imagine 
what  a  noisy  school  it  was:  one  boy 
droning  his  alphabet  over  and  over,  an- 
other saying  his  numbers  outloud,  learn- 
ing to  count,  others  reading  parts  of  the 
248 


Five  Times  a  Day  249 

Koran.  The  schoolmaster  would  get 
quite  provoked  at  Achmed  if  he  was 
quiet — he  thought  it  surely  showed  he 
was  not  studying,  so  he  rapped  his 
knuckles  with  a  stick,  which  made  Ach- 
med begin  jabbering  away  again,  at 
once,  of  course ! 

Some  of  the  things  Aclmied  read  in 
the  Koran  would  seem  very  absurd  to 
us,  although  he  believed  every  word  of 
them.  Here  are  two  of  them:  ^^ If  a  fly 
falls  into  a  dish  of  food,  plunge  it  in 
completely,  then  take  it  out  and  throw 
it  away,  for  in  one  of  its  wings  is  a 
cause  of  sickness,  and  in  the  other  a 
cause  of  health;  and  in  falling  it  falls 
on  the  sick  wing;  but  if  the  fly  is  en- 
tirely covered  by  food,  then  the  healthy 
wing  will  do  away  with  the  bad  effect 
of  the  sick  wing.''  You  can  easily  see 
that  the  man  who  wrote  the  Koran  did 
not  know  anything  about  germs,  or  be- 
lieve in  ^^ swatting  the  fly"  before  it  has 
a  chance  even  to  see  the  inside  of  a 
house. 

This  man  who  wrote  the  Koran  also 


250  Thirty-second  Story 

told  what  to  do  to  keep  a  bad  dream 
from  hurting  you — ^he  very  solemnly 
wrote  that  the  only  thing  to  do  was  to 
spit  three  times  over  the  left  shoulder! 
Another  thing  he  said  was  that  people 
should  begin  everything  on  the  7Hg]it 
side  and  end  with  the  left  side — in  tak- 
ing a  bath,  for  instance,  they  should 
rub  from  the  right  side  to  the  left  side 
always,  or  else  they  w^ould  have  bad 
luck. 

Poor  little  Achmed  believed  every 
word  of  the  Koran,  and  was  very  care- 
ful to  do  all  these  things. 

Five  times  a  day  a  very  strange  thing 
happened  in  all  Arabian  cities.  A  man 
walked  out  on  the  tower  of  the  mosque 
and  called:  ^^Come  to  prayer!  Come  to 
prayer !  There  is  no  god  but  Allah,  and 
Mohammed  is  Ms  prophet. ' '  Five  times 
a  day  when  that  sounded,  every  boy 
stopped  saying  his  lessons  out  loud,  and 
fell  on  his  knees,  bowed  his  head  to  the 
earth,  and  said  a  prayer  from  the  Ko- 
ran. The  school  teacher  did  the  same 
thing.     In    fact    all    over    Arabia,    or 


Five  Times  a  Day  251 

wherever  anybody  believed  in  Moham- 
med or  the  book  called  the  Koran,  five 
times  a  day  every  single  man,  woman 
and  child  must  stop  whatever  they  are 
doing  when  they  hear  the  muezzin  call 
from  the  tower  of  the  mosque,  and  kneel 
down  to  pray — in  the  stores,  in  the 
street,  in  school  or  at  home.  They  were 
always  careful  to  turn  their  faces  to- 
ward a  city  called  Mecca  where  this  man 
Mohammed  was  born. 

I  can  just  hear  you  saying:  ^^Well, 
who  is  this  Mohammed,  anyhow?'' 

In  the  first  place  he  lived  in  Arabia 
a  great  many  hundreds  of  years  ago, 
and  he  decided  he  would  start  a  new 
religion  of  his  own,  since  he  did  not 
care  for  idols,  and  he  also  did  not  want 
to  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  This  new 
religion  was  called  Mohammedanism, 
after  him ;  but  since  he  was  not  a  good 
man,  the  things  he  taught  were  very  far 
from  good,  as  I  will  show  you.  For  one 
thing,  he  said  that  anyone  who  did  not 
believe  in  his  new  religion  should  be 
killed  at  once.    The  poor  Arabs  were  so 


252  Thirty-second  Story 

scared  that  they  hurried  to  be  Moham- 
medans, of  course.  Then  Mohammed 
wrote  the  Koran,  to  be  a  sort  of  Bible 
to  his  followers,  only  he  put  in  such  ab- 
surd things  as  the  sayings  about  dreams 
and  flies  of  which  I  just  told  you,  and 
many  cruel  things  about  women:  that 
they  were  not  nearly  as  good  as  a  man, 
that  they  must  not  leave  their  homes, 
that  they  must  always  wear  veils  over 
their  faces — oh,  all  kinds  of  things  that 
have  made  Arab  women  unliappy  ever 
since!  It  was  because  the  Arabs  be- 
lieved the  Koran,  that  it  was  the  only 
book  they  studied  in  school. 

After  Achmed  had  read  it  all  through 
once,  he  was  ready  to  graduate  from  the 
primary  school,  which  was  a  wonderful 
event  in  his  life.  His  mother  dressed 
him  up  in  his  very  best  clothes,  and 
Sherin  decorated  their  patient  old  gray 
donkey  with  blue  bead  necklaces  and 
jingling  bells  and  a  red  tassel  here  and 
there  just  for  luck.  Then  Achmed  got 
on  it,  and  rode  around  to  visit  all  his 
friends  and  neighbors,  who  gave  him 


Five  Times  a  Day  253 

presents  of  sticky  candy  or  small  pieces 
of  money.  Then  he  rode  to  the  mosque, 
carrying  a  handsome  present  of  figs, 
dates  and  cigarettes  for  the  school- 
master. 

I  just  wish  you  could  have  seen  Ach- 
med  give  it  to  him!  He  knelt  down 
and  touched  the  earth  with  one  hand, 
then  raised  the  hand  to  his  lips  as  he 
said:  *^I  take  the  earth  from  beneath 
your  feet  and  kiss  it,  O  learned  mas- 
ter!'' 

So  that  is  how  Achmed  went  through 
school,  learning  only  those  silly  useless 
things  which  Mohammed  had  written  in 
the  Koran.  Next  week  I  will  tell  you 
about  a  better  school  than  that  in 
Arabia ! 


THIRTY-THIRD   STORY 
Jesus  said:  "I  am  the  Water  of  Life" 

"SEVEN  LOAVES  OF  BREAD" 


1.  Write  down   what  you  can  of  the   sacred  tree, 
and  what  hung  there  for  an  Arab  to  see? 


Ans. 


2.  When  the  baby  got  sick  his  mother  did  what? 
Two  tilings  that  were  silly,  and  one  that  was  not? 


Ans. 


3.  What  do  Arabian  women  need  worst?    And  how 
can  Christ  satisfy  their  thirst? 


Ans. 


254 


THIRTY-THIRD  STORY 

^^ SEVEN  LOAVES  OF  BREAD" 

Perhaps  3^011  remember  that  when 
our  missionary  called  at  Sherin's  little 
house  with  the  flat  roof,  she  had  invited 
her  to  come  to  our  Sunday-school.  So 
one  day  Sherin  w^ent,  and  found  it  al- 
together w^onderful. 

It  was  wonderful  to  her  to  learn  that 
Christ  Jesus  was  so  kind  and  gracious 
to  everybody,  even  to  women.  Moham- 
med had  not  been  that  way,  at  all.  I 
told  last  week  that  when  he  started  his 
new  religion  he  said  that  women  were 
so  totally  different  from  men  that  they 
ought  to  go  around  with  their  faces 
covered  with  a  heavy  veil,  and  that  be- 
cause they  had  no  souls  Allah  could  not 
care  for  them  as  much  as  for  men.  Per- 
haps you  never  thought  of  it  before,  but 
the  Bible  is  full  of  beautiful  stories 
about  women  to  whom  Jesus  could  al- 
255 


256  Thirty-third  Story 

ways  find  time  to  talk.  Like  Mary  and 
Martha,  and  the  woman  at  the  well,  who 
gave  Him  a  drink  of  water.  Sherin 
listened  with  all  her  ears,  and  used  to 
run  home  and  tell  her  mother  about  the 
wonderful  new  God  who  was  so  kind  to 
women,  that  it  seemed  too  good  to  be 
true.  Sherin 's  mother  listened  and  said 
she  wished  she  dared  believe  something 
as  nice  as  that,  but  noiody  liked  women, 
and  Sherin  might  just  as  well  make  up 
her  mind  to  it  now ! 

There  was  a  tree  in  their  town  which 
everybody  said  was  a  ^^ sacred  tree." 
There  are  lots  of  ^^ sacred  trees"  in 
Arabia,  they  call  them  ^Unanaliil/'  and 
the  Arabs  firmly  believe  they  are  places 
where  angels  or  ''jinn"  come  down  to 
earth,  so  no  leaf  from  such  a  tree  mav 
be  plucked,  and  they  are  honored  with 
sacrifices  of  shreds  of  flesh,  and  made 
gay  with  bits  of  calico  and  beads,  which 
every  worshipper  hangs  at  the  shrine. 
Now  it  happened  that  one  day  a  leaf 
had  fallen  from  this  sacred  tree  on 
the  ground,  and  Achmed's  little  baby 


Seven  Loaves  of  Bread  257 

brother  who  loved  to  crawl  on  the  street, 
picked  up  the  leaf  and  began  to  chew  it ! 

Of  course  you  and  I  know  that  a  leaf 
from  the  street  would  probably  be  so 
dusty  and  dirty  that  it  might  make  any- 
body sick  who  ate  it;  but  the  Arabs 
never  heard  of  germs,  so  when  the  bab}" 
began  to  sneeze  and  cough,  and  grow 
quite  sick,  Achmed  told  his  mother  how 
the  baby  had  chewed  a  leaf  from  the 
sacred  tree. 

You  never  saw  anyone  as  scared  as 
she  was!  She  tried  everything  she 
could  think  of  to  make  the  poor  baby 
well.  Oh,  such  queer  things !  At  night 
she  put  seven  flat  loaves  of  bread  under 
his  pillow,  and  the  next  morning  she 
threw  them  out  for  the  dogs  to  eat  up ! 
She  hoped  that  the  baby's  sickness 
would  go  into  the  loaves  of  bread — but 
the  poor  little  fellow  was  worse  than 
ever!  So  then  Achmed  copied  a  verse 
from  the  Koran  on  a  tiny  scrap  of 
paper,  and  his  mother  made  the  baby 
chew  up  the  paper  and  swallow  it, 
thinking  surely  a  verse  from  the  sacred 


258  Thirty-third  Story 

Koran  would  make  the  sickness  run 
away.  But  it  did  no  good  at  all,  and 
the  baby  was  not  a  bit  interested  in 
chewing  the  paper,  poor  dear !  So  then 
his  mother  did  the  worst  thing  of  all, 
she  took  a  very  hot  iron  and  burned  a 
place  on  the  baby's  shoulder,  since 
everyone  in  Arabia  thinks  that  will  cure 
any  sickness!  But  the  baby  only 
screamed  and  coughed  worse  than  ever, 
and  everyone  saw  he  was  getting  sicker. 

Just  then  Sherin  came  home  from  our 
school  where  she  was  going  every  day 
now.  When  she  saw  the  baby,  she  said : 
^^I  know  just  the  thing  to  do!  There 
is  a  Christian  doctor  here,  and  my  mis- 
sionary was  telling  me  sick  people  go 
there  and  she  cures  them.  Let's  put  the 
baby  on  the  donkey  and  go  to  see  her." 
So  the  mother  put  the  baby  on  the  don- 
key, and  away  she  hurried,  although 
Achmed  took  time  to  hang  some  blue 
beads  around  the  donkey's  neck  to  bring 
good  luck! 

There  were  a  great  many  Arab 
women  waiting  outside  the  dispensary 


Seven  Loaves  of  Bread  259 

where  the  doctor  was  busy,  and  one  of 
our  missionaries  was  taking  their  pic- 
ture when  Achmed  and  his  mother  ar- 
rived. You  can  see  from  your  take- 
home  card  how  gloomy  the  women  look 
in  their  black  dresses  and  veils. 

The  doctor  asked  Achmed 's  mother 
a  few  questions  about  the  baby.  You 
ought  to  have  seen  the  queer  look  in  her 
eyes  when  the  mother  said  she  had  put 
seven  loaves  of  bread  under  the  baby's 
head!  She  even  could  look  amused 
about  the  Koran  verse  on  the  piece  of 
paper,  but  oh,  lioiv  she  did  scowl  when 
she  heard  about  the  hot  iron !  She  was 
so  glad,  however,  that  she  knew  the 
right  way  to  make  baby  well,  and  in  all 
Arabia  no  mother  was  as  happy  as  this 
one  was  when  the  doctor  said  in  three 
days  the  baby  would  be  all  right — if  !  If 
what  ^.  If  she  did  exactly  what  she  was 
told  to  do.  Achmed 's  mother  promised 
gladly,  and  took  the  precious  medicine 
bottle  home.  Sure  enough  the  baby 
got  well,  and  that  was  the  reason  why 
the  whole  family  were  rather  willing  to 


26o  Thirty-third  Story 

hear  more  about  Christianity.  A  Bible 
woman  came  to  the  house  quite  often, 
and  one  day  when  she  read  them  about 
the  woman  at  the  well,  Achmed's  mother 
said :  ^  ^  I  am  thirsty,  too !  I  want  to  have 
your  Jesus,  I  can  see  just  how  He  is 
the  Water  of  Life.  No  one  has  ever 
troubled  to  like  me  before,  but  I  really 
think  maybe  even  an  Arab  woman  can 
be  happy!'' 

Then  the  Bible  woman  who  was  an 
Arab  herself,  smiled  the  happiest  kind 
of  a  smile,  and  it  wasn't  so  many 
months  later  when  smiles  and  happiness 
became  the  rule  of  the  day  in  the  flat- 
roofed  house  where  Sherin  and  Achmed 
and  the  baby  lived.  Five  times  a  day 
they  heard  the  muezzin  call  to  prayer 
up  in  the  tower  of  the  mosque,  but  they 
did  not  kneel  or  pray,  for  they  knew 
Mohammed  had  been  only  a  selfish  cruel 
teacher,  but  that  Jesus  was  God,  and 
the  Water  of  Life  to  thirsty  souls. 


THIRTY-FOURTH  STORY 

Jesus  said:  *'I  am  the  Water  of  Life'* 

A  CAEAVAN  IN  THE  DESERT 


1.  Oasis  and  desert — what  do  these  words  mean? 
And  what  in  a  desert  is  there  to  be  seen? 


Ans. 


2.  What   is   a    "harem,"    and   who   lives    in   tliere? 
And  wliy  can't  they  wallv  out  to  get  tlie  fresh  air? 


Ans. 


3.  What  do  our  missionaries  teacli  tliem  to  do  that 
clianges  entirely  that  point-of-view? 

Ans 


261 


THIRTY-FOURTH  STORY 

**A  CARAVAN  IN  THE  DESERT" 

Almost  all  of  us  have  friends  who 
have  gone  away  this  month,  some  of 
them  are  camping  in  the  mountains, 
some  are  at  the  seashore,  some  in  a  big 
boat,  some  in  an  automobile.  But  you 
mustn't  let  them  think  that  stay-at- 
home  people  don't  take  trips,  too,  for 
to-day  I  am  going  to  pretend  to  take  you 
on  a  long  trip  across  a  desert  in  Arabia. 
The  desert  is  seven  thousand  miles  long 
and  seven  thousand  miles  wide,  and  as 
you  know  a  desert  is  a  big  bare  piece 
of  land  covered  with  hot  yellow  sand, 
where  nothing  can  grow,  because  there 
is  no  water. 

We  will  have  to  go  on  the  back  of  a 
camel.  He  will  fold  his  legs  under  him 
as  he  kneels  down  so  we  can  scramble 
on  his  back,  then  he  unfolds  and  rises 
way  up  in  the  air !  We  may  feel  a  lit- 
262 


A  Caravan  in  the  Desert         263 

tie  dizzy  and  wobbly  at  first,  but  he  goes 
walking  calmly  off.  One  by  one  we  will 
all  fall  in  line,  forming  a  caravan  of 
little  Christian  Church  boys  and  girls 
on  their  way  to  visit  our  very  own  mis- 
sionaries over  there. 

Day  after  day  after  day  we  will  go 
over  the  sand,  and  you  will  be  hot,  and 
thirsty,  and  oh !  so  tired  of  sand !  Then 
off  in  the  distance  we  will  see  two  palm 
trees,  and  I  will  call:  ''Hurrah!  there 
is  an  oasis!" 

If  you  never  heard  of  one  before  you 
will  say:  ''And  what  is  an  oasis,  I  won- 
der.'' Before  long  you  will  see  that  it 
is  a  few  palm  trees  and  green  grass 
growing  around  a  delicious  little  spring. 
"Oh,  isn't  this  nice!''  we  all  say,  as  we 
sit  in  the  shade  of  the  palms,  and  drink 
the  cool  water.  "How  dreary  and  dull 
the  desert  is ! " 

It  often  seems  to  me  that  people's 
lives  in  Arabia  are  exactly  like  the  des- 
erts— so  dull  and  dreary  and  unend- 
ing,— just  monotonous,  cheerless  lives! 
To  unhappy  people  like  that  our  church 


264  Thirty-fourth  Story 

is  like  an  oasis,  where  thirsty  people 
find  Jesus,  and  learn  that  He  is  the 
Water  of  Life. 

Just  think  what  a  dreadful  thing  it 
would  be  to  wear  a  heavy  black  veil 
over  one's  face  out  on  the  street,  the 
way  Achmed's  mother  had  to  do!  But 
think  how  much  worse  it  would  be  if 
you  were  in  a  richer  family  where 
women  did  not  have  to  go  to  the  well 
for  water  every  day  but  stayed  cooped 
up  indoors  behind  lattice  windows  with 
nothing  to  do  but  gossip,  and  smoke 
cigarettes,  and  gossip  some  more.  This 
part  of  the  house  where  the  women  have 
to  live  is  called  the  '4iarem,"  and  a 
drearier  duller  kind  of  life  you  never 
knew.    It  really  is  like  a  desert!    . 

But  when  our  Mrs.  Missionary  goes 
into  the  harem  with  her  Bible  and  her 
Sunday-school  pictures  of  Bible  stories, 
the  lazy  women  crowd  around  her 
eagerly.  She  tells  them  story  after 
story  about  Jesus. 

*'We  can  hardly  believe  all  you  tell 
us!"  they  say.    '^Do  you  mean  He  ac- 


A  Caravan  in  the  Desert         265 

tually  lets  women  come  to  His  heaven 
when  they  die  'F  That  He  loves  them  ex- 
actly as  well  as  He  loves  men?" 

Our  missionary  knows  what  is  in 
their  minds:  She  knows  they  are  re- 
membering about  Mohammed,  and  how 
when  he  started  his  religion,  he  had  no 
use  for  women  at  all,  how  he  ordered 
that  they  should  wear  veils  over  their 
faces  outdoors,  and  should  be  kept 
locked  u]3  indoors  as  much  as  possible. 
When  they  hear  about  Jesus,  it  sounds 
too  good  to  be  true ! 

Our  JMrs.  Missionary  or  our  Miss 
Missionary  hardly  ever  find  any  of  these 
shut-in  women  who  can  read,  so  they 
start  classes  for  them,  so  they  can  be- 
gin learning  their  A  B  C's.  Sometimes 
there  will  be  little  girls  of  six  or  seven 
years  old  beginning  to  learn  with 
great  grown-up  mothers  and  aunts  and 
cousins.  Perhaps  you  can  guess  that 
one  of  the  first  books  our  missionaries 
have  them  read  is  the  Bible,  and  it 
certainly  does  make  one  bright  beautiful 
spot  in  their  lives  to  have  these  short 


266  Thirty-fourth  Story 

hours  once  a  week  with  someone  from 
outside. 

We  have  hospitals  in  Arabia,  too, 
perfectly  splendid  ones,  where  these 
shut-in  women  can  go  and  be  cured,  and 
there,  too,  they  learn  about  Jesus.  Wo- 
men who  are  shut  indoors  all  their  lives 
can't  keep  well,  of  course ;  God  made  us 
all  to  need  fresh  air  in  our  lungs,  and  he 
made  our  bones  and  muscles  for  exer- 
cise !  So  it  is  no  wonder  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  sickness.  I  have  told  you  al- 
ready some  of  the  silly  ways  they  have 
of  trying  to  cure  sickness,  so  our  hospi- 
tals are  a  perfect  blessing  to  rich  and 
poor  alike. 

I  wish  our  camels  could  take  us  to 
all  our  churches  and  hospitals  and 
schools  in  Arabia,  but  we  can't  spare 
the  time — it  would  take  weeks  to  get 
from  place  to  place !  But  you  have  no 
idea  how  many  women  in  black  dresses 
and  black  veils  we  would  see — some  of 
them  happier  because  in  their  dull 
dreary  lives  our  missionaries  have  made 
a  little  oasis  of  pleasant  friendliness. 


A  Caravan  in  the  Desert         267 

where  they  can  learn  about  Jesus,  the 
Water  of  Life,  who  satisfies  every 
thirsty  soul,  and  never  notices  who  it 
is  that  asks  Him,  so  that  He  can  say 
*^yes''  to  the  men,  and  ^^no!  no!"  to 
the  women.  ' '  Come  unto  me ! ' '  He  says 
to  them  all;  and  I  am  so  glad,  aren't 
you'? 


THIRTY-FIFTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:  "The  Great  Physician" 

PAINS  AND  PILLS,  AND  A  CURE 
THAT  KILLS 


1.  What  three  dreadful  things  do  they  use  when 
your're  ill  in  China ;  one  pricks ;  one  burns ;  one's  a 
pill? 

Ans 

2.  In  India  tell  how  they  shake  you  .and  shout  to 
make  all  the  bad  evil  spirits  run  out. 

Ans 

3.  Tell  of  the  African  witch  doctor's  trick  to  find 
out   which   person   bewitched  the   sick? 

Ans 

4.  Why  does  an  Indian  medicine-man  do  all  the 
dancing  and  shouting  he  can? 

An^ 

268 


THIRTY-FIFTH  STORY 

^^PAINS    AND    PILLS,    AND    A 
CURE    THAT    KILLS" 

Once  upon  a  time,  long,  long  years 
ago,  when  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 
people  used  to  bring  their  sick  friends 
to  Him  at  sunset  time,  so  that  He  could 
lay  His  hands  on  them  to  heal  them. 
And  because  He  could  always  do  for 
people  just  what  most  needed  to  be  done, 
He  has  earned  the  beautiful  name  of 
^^The  Great  Physician." 

Of  course  you  know  who  it  is  that 
needs  a  physician  don't  you?  Jesus 
Himself  said:  ''They  that  are  well  have 
no  need  for  a  physician,  but  they  that 
are  sick,"  and  ever  since  those  days 
when  Jesus  was  here  among  men,  His 
followers  have  felt  that  they,  too,  must 
help  make  sick  people  well. 

I  have  a  very  strange  thing  to  tell 
you,  although  you  really  have  learned 
269 


270  Thirty-fifth  Story 

it  from  some  of  the  stories  we  have  had 
so  far:  that  only  in  countries  where 
most  of  the  people  are  Christians  do 
sick  people  receive  the  proper  care. 
Even  girls  and  boys  know  a  good  deal 
about  themselves  and  what  is  the  mat- 
ter with  them. 

Just  let's  suppose  you  had  eaten  three 
green  apples  and  felt  dreadful  pains  in 
your  stomach.  You  would  tell  mother, 
and  probably  she  has  just  the  very  medi- 
cine you  need  right  in  the  house.  But 
if  she  hasn't,  it  really  doesn't  matter, 
because,  of  course,  there  is  a  doctor  in 
your  town,  isn't  there  ?  Or  a  drug  store 
where  you  can  buy  the  very  pill  to  make 
you  well  again. 

But  just  suppose  there  was  no  one 
anywhere  who  knew  what  to  give  you 
to  make  you  well !  No  doctor  for  hun- 
dreds and  hundreds  of  miles,  and  your 
mother  wouldn't  know  how  to  help  you, 
nor  your  grandmother,  nor  anybody 
else  in  the  whole  town ! 

Just  suppose  you  were  a  Chinese  boy 
with  a  pain  like  that.    Then  your  little 


Pains  and  Pills  271 

Chinese  mother  would  hobble  around  on 
her   tiny   bound   feet    crying:    '*Alas! 
Alas!   he   has    a   little   dragon   inside 
him!''    She  would  try  making  a  big 
noise  to  scare  away  the  dragon,  but  you 
would  double  all  up  in  pain  and  look 
so  very  pale  that  she  would  send  at  once 
for  the  most  dreadful  old  Chinese  doc- 
tor, who  really  wouldn't  do  you  a  bit 
of  good,  because  he  would  be  a  perfect 
old  ''Ignoramus!''    But  in  he  would 
waddle  in  his  long  blue  coat,  wearing,  a 
huge  pair  of  horn  spectacles  and  look- 
ing  wondrous   wise,    for   had   he   not 
studied  medicine  from  dusty  old  books 
ttvo  or  tliree  tliousand  years  old?    He 
would  look  wiser  than  ever  as  he  would 
say:  ''He  has  an  evil  spirit  inside  him!'' 
Then  he  would  bring  a  dreadful,  long, 
sharp  needle  from  his  bag  and  run  it  into 
your  stomach — prick-prick — to  let  the 
pain  out!    Oh!  how  you  would  squeal! 
Then  when  you  would  seem  no  better 
he  would  heat  an  iron  until  it  was  very 
hot  to  burn  you!     When  that  did  no 
good,  he  would  suggest  giving  you  some 


272  Thirty-fifth  Story 

pills  made  of  a  bird's  claw,  a  dried 
grasshopper,  three  legs  from  a  centi- 
pede, a  snake's  tongue,  a  little  tiger 
bone  scraped  to  a  powder  and  a  tiny 
piece  of  your  grandmother's  finger  nail ! 
He  would  look  very  solemn  and  promise 
that  these  pills  will  scare  away  the  lit- 
tle dragon!  Of  course  if  it  really  was 
a  dragon  inside  you,  instead  of  those 
three  green  apples,  I  think  the  dragon 
would  have  been  dreadfully  scared  long 
before  this !  I  really  think  the  Chinese 
boys  and  girls  need  good  Christian  doc- 
tors, don't  you? 

Or  if  you  were  sick  in  India  it  would 
be  just  as  bad.  No  one  would  really 
know  what  was  the  matter.  ^^Evil 
spirits!"  they  would  say!  They  would 
beat  on  drums  to  scare  the  spirits  away, 
and  they  would  shake  you  to  let  the  evil 
spirits  be  jounced  out,  but  of  course 
what  you  really  need  is  a  quiet  room 
with  some  fresh  air  in  it,  and  someone 
to  fan  away  the  horrid  flies  that  walk 
all  over  your  poor  hot  face  and  your 
weak  little  arms.    I  feel  that  the  Hindu 


Pains  and  Pills  273 

boys  and  girls  in  India  need  good  Chris- 
tian doctors,  too,  don't  you'? 

I  have  already  told  you  about  what 
happens  to  sick  people  in  Africa,  how 
a  charm  is  about  the  only  medicine  they 
use — just  a  queer  bundle  of  feathers  or 
a  stone  hung  around  the  neck.  I  told 
you,  too,  how  the  Witch  Doctor  prances 
madly  around,  foaming  at  the  mouth, 
until  he  picks  out  the  unlucky  person 
whom  he  says  bewitched  the  sick  pa- 
tient. And  the  unlucky  person  has  to 
take  sass-wood  poison  to  prove  whether 
he  or  she  is  really  guilty  or  not!  So 
the  boys  and  girls  in  Africa  need  good 
Christian  doctors,  too. 

Right  here  in  America,  the  red  Amer- 
ican Indians  have  almost  as  dreadful  a 
doctor,  who  of  course  is  really  no  doc- 
tor at  all.  They  call  him  a  medicine- 
man. He  is  a  dreadful  sight,  painted 
up  to  look  wild  and  fierce,  with  horns 
on  his  head  and  a  snake  skin  around  his 
waist.  All  he  does  is  to  dance  round 
and  round  the  sick  person,  humming  a 
sing-song  chant,  and  rattling  a  noisy 


274  Thirty-fifth  Story 

rattle.  He  may  give  some  horrid  tast- 
ing medicine,  or  hang  a  charm  aromid 
the  patient's  neck,  then  he  dances  out 
again.  The  little  red  Indians  certainly 
need  good  Christian  doctors. 

And  in  Arabia  they  need  doctors,  as 
I  am  sure  you  remember.  So  I  think  it 
is  a  very  beautiful  thing,  that  God  has 
put  it  into  the  hearts  of  a  few  good 
Christian  doctors  in  America  to  cross 
the  ocean  to  help  cure  our  little  yellow, 
and  brown,  and  black  brothers.  If  only 
there  were  more  of  these  good  Christian 
doctors,  there  would  be  less  of  '^  Pains 
and  Pills,  and  a  Cure  that  Kills!'' 


THIRTY-SIXTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:  "The  Great  Physician" 

THE    STORY    OF    TWO    HANDS 


Explain  ])lease  more  fully  the  tale  of  these  hands 
and  finger  by  finger  write  of  sick  in  all  lands: 


275 


THIRTY-SIXTH  STORY 

^^THE  STORY  OF  TWO  HANDS" 

Last  Sunday  we  had  stories  about 
being  sick  in  some  of  the  heathen  coun- 
tries where  the  people  do  not  know 
about  Jesus,  so  to-day  I  want  to  tell  you 
the  same  thing  in  a  somewhat  different 
way,  calling  it  the  ^^  Story  of  the  Two 
Hands,"  which  you  have  on  your  cards. 

You  will  notice  that  the  left  hand  is 
marked  ^^behixdhand";  when  you  get 
home  I  want  you  to  color  it  hroivn,  to 
show  it  belongs  to  some  of  our  brown, 
yellow,  red  and  black  brothers  and  sis- 
ters. Each  finger  on  that  hand  stands 
for  something  I  want  to  tell  you,  so  let's 
begin  by  putting  the  little  finger  of  our 
own  left  hands  on  the  little  finger  of 
this  ^^BEHiNDHAXD."  Are  you  ready? 
This  little  finger  is  labelled  '^Ignorance 
of  the  Body/'  For  the  heathen  fathers 
276 


The  Story  of  Two  Hands        277 

and  mothers  of  our  little  red,  yellow, 
brown  and  black  brothers  and  sisters 
certainly  do  believe  queer  things  about 
the  body.  You  and  I  know  ever  and 
ever  so  much  more  about  the  body  than 
they  do.  For  instance  in  China  they 
think  there  are  five  tubes  leading  from 
the  mouth  to  the  stomach — rice  goes 
down  one  tube,  soup  down  another, 
meat  down  another,  vegetables  down 
another;  but  w^hen  rice  goes  down  the 
tube  where  only  soup  should  go,  then 
the  person  is  ill!  Of  course,  it's  not 
true  at  all,  but  it's  no  worse  than  the 
people  in  India  believe  about  the  pulses 
that  beat  in  our  wrists  or  the  blue  veins 
that  we  see  there.  I  just  couldn't  tell 
you  all  these  particular  things  they  be- 
lieve until  our  Christian  doctors  teach 
them  better. 

Now  lay  your  next  finger  on  the  finger 
labelled  ''Superstition/'  You  already 
know  all  about  this,  although  maybe  you 
do  not  know  that  the  big  word  ''super- 
stition" only  means  fear  of  evil  spirits, 
charms,    dread   of   idols,    etc.     If   the 


278  Thirty-sixth  Story 

heathen  were  not  afraid  of  something 
all  the  time  they  would  not  need  charms 
or  incense  to  burn  before  the  idols.  In 
Japan  there  is  an  idol  called  *^Bind- 
zuru"  which  is  worn  smooth  and  black 
by  the  thousands  of  sick  people  who 
have  a  pain  somewhere  and  think  they 
will  be  cured  by  rubbing  the  same  place 
on  the  idol. 

Next  put  your  finger  on  the  finger 
marked  ''Ignorance  of  How  to  Keep 
Well,''  Grown-up  people  in  America 
call  this  Hygiene,  but  even  you  girls 
and  boys  know  more  about  it  than  all 
the  heathen  mothers  and  fathers  put  to- 
gether! For  instance,  you  know  that 
cleaning  your  teeth  and  taking  a  bath 
everyday  keeps  your  bodies  well;  you 
know  that  you  ought  to  drink  pure 
water  only — yet  in  India  a  mother  will 
go  to  a  river  where  all  kinds  of  people 
are  bathing  and  washing  their  clothes 
and  fill  her  water- jar  with  drinking 
water  for  the  family !  Indeed  she  does ! 
That  is  one  reason  why  there  are  so 
many  sick  people  in  India.    You  know, 


The  Story  of  Two  Hands        279 

too,  that  fresh  air  and  clean  houses  help 
you  to  keep  well,  that  flies  and  mos- 
quitoes carry  disease  germs  on  their 
legs,  which  is  the  reason  why  we  have 
sticky  fly  paper,  and  screens  at  our 
windows.  But  in  India  a  person  would 
not  dare  kill  a  fly,  because  they  believe 
the  spirit  of  some  dead  person  has  been 
born  again  into  a  fly.  You  know  that 
milk  is  the  thing  for  babies,  but  in 
heathen  lands  babies  eat  cucumbers, 
pickles,  tea,  nuts,  and  all  kinds  of 
chunky  lumpy  things  that  make  them 
sick.  ^^How  to  Keep  Weir'  is  hard 
enough  here  in  America  where  we  know 
the  rules,  so  do  you  wonder  people  in 
heathen  lands  are  sick  so  much"? 

Let  us  next  put  our  fingers  on  the 
fourth  finger  of  the  ^^  Heathen  Behind- 
hand," which  is  marked  ''Cruel  Medi- 
cal Practices,"  Last  Sunday  I  told  you 
all  about  them:  *' Pains  and  Pills,  and 
a  Cure  that  Kills." 

I  am  sure  you  haven't  forgotten  the 
long  sharp  needle,  the  hot  iron,  the 
beating  of  drums,  or  the  useless  charm 


28o  Thirty-sixth  Story 

hung  around  the  neck  of  the  sick  per- 
son, have  you'?  So  we  can  lay  our 
thumbs  on  the  thumb  of  the  ^^  Heathen 
Behindhand"  which  is  marked  ''Cus- 
tom/' 

I  wonder  if  you  know  how  much  a 
thumb  means  to  the  rest  of  our  fingers ! 
it  really  rules  them  all!  In  just  the 
same  way  Custom  rules  all  the  fingers 
of  the  ^^  Heathen  Behind. '^  When  our 
wise  doctor  missionaries  say:  ^*Do  not 
give  the  baby  tea  and  cucumbers  to 
eat/'  the  mother  says:  '^Oh  that  will 
not  hurt  him  any,  we  always  give  babies 
such  things  here !"  For  custom  is  what 
people  have  kept  doing  for  so  long  a 
time  that  it  seems  the  only  right  thing 
to  do.  But,  of  course,  it  isn't  right, 
just  for  that  reason,  at  all! 

So  now  we  come  to  the  right  hand 
marked  ' '  Christian  Helping  Hand.'^ ' 
This  hand  must  be  left  ivliite,  because 
it  stands  for  our  doctor  missionaries 
who  have  given  their  hands  and  their 
lives  to  curing  the  sick  persons  all  over 
the  world.    Each  finger  tells  what  their 


The  Story  of  Two  Hands        281 

hands  do  for  Jesus,  day  by  day.  Sup- 
pose we  tick  off  the  fingers,  as  we  did 
before:  The  first  finger,  labelled  ''Visits 
in  the  Home/'  shows  how  our  doctor 
Missionaries  go  into  the  dirty  little 
huts,  where  the  sick  people  lie.  They 
chase  away  the  noisy  neighbors  beating 
drums,  they  fan  away  the  sticky  flies, 
they  make  evrything  quiet  in  the  little 
hut  and  give  good  medicine  so  that  the 
sick  person  becomes  well.  The  second 
finger,  labelled  ''DisiJensaries/'  tells 
how  our  doctor  missionaries  have 
offices  where  people  can  come  to  be  ex- 
amined and  get  medicine;  while  the 
third  finger,  labelled  ''Hospitals/'  tells 
how  the  people  too  sick  to  walk  around 
can  stay  in  our  Hospitals  until  they  are 
well,  in  fresh  white  beds,  with  kind 
nurses  to  care  for  them.  The  fourth 
finger,  labelled  "Training  of  Nurses/' 
tells  how  our  missionary  doctors  teach 
dirty  heathen  girls  to  become  clean,  or- 
derly, and  oh!  such  kind  nurses!  I 
think  they  make  such  good  nurses,  be- 
cause they  love  Jesus,  and  they  enjoy 


282  Thirty-sixth  Story 

doing  what  He  did  when  He  was  here 
among  men,  and  cured  the  sick. 

But  the  tlmnib  of  this  '^Christian 
Helping  Hand"  rules  all  the  fingers,  for 
it  is  ^'Help  for  the  soul,"  Souls  get 
sick  just  as  bodies  do,  that  is  what 
makes  people  feel  lonely  and  forlorn, 
hopeless  and  unhappy.  So  our  doctor 
Missionaries  have  Bible  women  to  talk 
to  every  single  one  of  their  patients,  to 
tell  stories  of  Jesus,  the  Great  Physi- 
cian. The  patients  in  the  hospitals 
have  to  lie  still  day  after  day,  so  they 
have  plenty  of  time  to  think  about  all 
the  stories  they  hear,  and  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  so  many  of  them  come  to 
love  Jesus,  in  whose  name  they  have 
been  made  well. 

I  almost  think  that  the  medicine  bot- 
tle in  the  hand  of  one  our  Missionary 
doctors  can  open  the  doors  of  more 
heathen  homes  than  any  other  key  in 
the  whole  world! 


THIRTY-SE\^NTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:  "The  Great  Physician" 

THE   gospp:l  according  to 

THE    TELEPHONE    BOOK 


1.  If   you   will   very   carefully    look,    you   can   find 
all  these  facts  in  your  telephone  book : 

(1).  There  are doctors  in  this  town. 

(2).  There  are nurses  in  this  town. 

(3).  There  are hospitals  in  this  town. 

(4).  There  are drug  stores  in  this  town. 

(5).  There dentists  in  this  town. 

2.  Then  write  down  what  you  really  decide  after 
these  figures  below  you  divide: 

IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    THERE    ARE 
225,000    Doctors    for    90,000,000    persons. 

1  Doctor  for  every persons. 

IN  THE  ENTIRE  HEATHEN  WORLD  THERE  ARE 
800  Doctors  for  1,000,000,000  persons. 
1    Doctor    for    every persons. 


3.  I   really   think  this  is   a- 


-division,   because 


283 


THIRTY-SEVENTH  STORY 

^^THE  GOSPEL  ACCORDING  TO 
THE  TELEPHONE  BOOK'' 

For  several  Sundays  we  have  had 
stories  about  how  badly  sick  people  in 
heathen  lands  need  good  Christian  doc- 
tors— I  am  sure  you  have  not  yet  for- 
gotten about  the  long  sharp  needle,  or 
the  red  hot  iron,  or  the  beating  of 
drums,  or  the  silly  bundle-charms  or 
any  of  the  other  cruel  things  done  to 
cure  sick  people  in  such  countries. 

But  the  trouble  is  that  even  after  our 
church  sends  all  it  missionary  doctors, 
and  Presbyterians  send  their  mission- 
ary doctors,  and  the  Methodists  send 
theirs,  and  the  Baptists  send  theirs, 
even  then  there  don 't  begin  to  be  enough 
Christian  doctors  to  go  around!  Here 
is  an  aritlmietic  lesson  in  long  division, 
284 


Gospel  According  to  Telephone  Book    285 

which    I   have    worked   out    for   you: 
[Write  on  the  blackboard.] 

7.Y  TEE  UNITED  STATES  THERE 
ARE 

225,000  doctors  for  90,000,000  persons 
1  doctor  for  every  400  persons 

IN    HEATHEN    LANDS     THERE 
ARE 

800  Christian  doctors  for 

1,000,000,000  persons 

1  Christian  doctor  for  every 

1,250,000  persons 

You  can  just  see  how  impossible  it 
is  for  one  doctor  to  take  care  of  1,250,- 
000  persons,  even  if  only  half  of  them 
were  sick  at  once! 

To-day  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the  true 
story  of  a  Chinese  son  whose  poor  old 
mother  had  something  so  dreadful  the 
matter  with  her  eyes  that  she  was  sick 
all  over.  The  son  called  in  the  village 
doctor,  who  really  was  not  a  doctor  at 


286  Thirty-seventh  Story 

all,  as  you  will  remember  from  last 
Sunday,  but  he  certainly  could  look 
wise  and  solemn  and  important.  He 
strutted  in,  and  looked  at  the  old  lady 
through  his  big  horn  glasses,  then  ivliat 
do  you  suppose  he  put  in  her  sore  eyes "? 
You  will  never  guess — ground  glass! 
That  means  glass  that  has  been  mashed 
to  a  powder,  but  all  the  little  grains 
hurt  and  stiuig  the  poor  old  lady  so 
that  she  could  not  see  at  all,  and  was 
more  sick  than  ever. 

The  nice  son  was  very  much  worried, 
and  did  not  know  what  else  to  try,  until 
one  day  he  heard  of  a  hospital  two  hun- 
dred miles  away  where  people  called 
Christians  cured  the  sick.  He  decided 
the  best  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to  take 
his  mother  there.  But  of  course  she 
was  not  well  enough  to  walk  so  far,  be- 
sides her  feet  were  useless  ^^  golden 
lilies'';  and  he  was  too  poor  to  hire  a 
sedan-chair  and  coolies  to  carry  her,  so 
he  just  put  her  into  a  wlieeJharrow, 
with  a  big  bundle  of  clothing  and  rice, 
and  away  he  started  for  the  hospital. 


Gospel  According  to  Telephone  Book    287 

Everybody  in  his  village  wagged  their 
heads  and  said : ' '  Go  slowly !  Go  slowly ! 
You  will  surely  kill  the  old  lady.  Your 
honorable  mother  will  soon  depart  to 
her  ancestors!" 

But  he  trundled  her  away  and  tried 
not  to  feel  at  all  worried.  Then  he 
wheeled  her  into  a  strange  village  where 
everyone  turned  out  of  their  houses  to 
see  the  unusual  sight  of  a  strong  man 
wheeling  his  old  mother  in  a  wheel- 
barrow. 

*^What  are  you  doing  with  the  aged 
one?''  they  asked  curiously. 

^^I  am  taking  her  to  the  Christian's 
hospital,  two  hundred  miles  away,  to 
get  her  new  e3"es,"  he  answered. 

*^Was  there  ever  such  devotion  on  the 
part  of  a  son"?"  everybody  said,  al- 
though they  all  wagged  their  heads,  and 
said  she  would  surely  never  live  to  get 
there,  oh  no ! 

In  every  single  village  people  said  the 
very  same  thing,  and  tried  to  discourage 
him  from  taking  such  a  long  hard  jour- 
ney.    For  of  course  you  can  imagine 


288  Thirty-seventh  Story 

how  hard  and  tiresome  it  was  to  push 
the  heavy  wheelbarrow  over  the  rough 
roads  day  after  day.  At  night  they 
would  stop  at  some  dirty  little  inn,  and 
there,  too,  people  would  praise  him  for 
his  care  of  the  old  lady,  but  warn  him 
he  was  surely  killing  her!  They  told 
him  his  own  household  gods  would  be 
angry  at  him  for  not  trusting  his  mother 
to  their  care  to  heal  her  eyes,  and  they 
warned  him  also  against  all  sorts  of  new 
evil  spirits  who  lived  in  far  away  vil- 
lages, who  would  love  to  torment  him. 
I  think  myself  he  was  a  perfectly  splen- 
did son,  for  every  morning  he  started 
off  again  pushing  his  poor  sick  mother, 
in  spite  of  all  the  wagging  heads  and 
the  fact  that  everyone  said  he  must  be 
crazy ! 

But  one  day  he  actually  reached  the 
Hospital,  where  a  Missionary  doctor 
and  a  Chinese  nurse  carried  the  old  lady 
inside  and  put  her  to  bed.  In  a  few 
days  she  was  rested  enough  for  the  doc- 
tor to  examine  her  eyes,  and  he  found 
he  could  operate  and  save  her  eyes.    So 


Gospel  According  to  Telephone  Book    289 

he  did  operate,  and  for  two  wonderful 
months  she  lay  in  that  neat  white  hos- 
pital with  fresh  bandages  OA^er  her  eyes. 
You  already  know  what  happened :  how 
the  nice  son  would  call  everyday  to  pay 
his  respects,  how  every  single  day  they 
would  hear  the  story  of  Jesus'  wonder- 
ful name  from  the  Bible  woman,  and 
hear  Christian  hymns  sung,  and  see 
how  happy  and  useful  and  tender  the 
Chinese  Christian  nurses  were.  Two 
months  is  a  long  time  to  be  in  one  place 
and  see  such  beautiful  things  every  day, 
so  before  the  son  put  his  mother  into 
the  wheelbarrow  again  to  push  her  the 
two  hundred  miles  home,  they  were 
both  Christians  themselves!  The  son 
said  to  the  missionary  doctor:  ^^Give 
me  some  Bibles  and  leaflets  so  that  on 
my  way  home  I  can  tell  everyone  about 
Jesus.'' 

Then  off  he  started. 

In  the  first  village  people  rushed  out : 
^ '  Oh !  here  is  that  devoted  son  who  was 
carrying  his  old  mother  to  the  Chris- 
tian's hospital.    And  I  do  declare,  the 


290  Thirty-seventh  Story 

old  lady  can  actually  see !  How  happy 
they  both  look!'' 

Then,  of  course,  he  would  stay  long 
enough  so  she  could  tell  about  the  oper- 
ation, and  so  he  could  tell  about  Jesus, 
and  leave  a  Bible  and  some  leaflets  to 
the  man  who  seemed  most  interested. 
The  same  thing  happened  in  every  vil- 
lage, so  that  he  left  behind  him  a  trail 
of  curious  people  reading  his  leaflets 
and  talking  about  this  Jesus  in  whose 
name  doctors  gave  medicine  that  really 
cured  the  sick. 

Of  course,  in  his  own  home  village, 
the  excitement  was  greatest !  The  peo- 
ple never  got  tired  hearing  him  tell 
about  the  hospital,  the  missionaries, 
the  wonderful  Jesus;  sometimes  when 
the  neighbors  could  not  quite  under- 
stand all  he  said,  they  would  look  over 
at  the  happy  old  lady  who  had  been 
blind,  but  could  now  see,  and  they 
would  say:  ^^If  the  Christian's  doctor- 
ing is  good,  their  doctrine  must  be  good, 
too."  So,  one  by  one,  people  in  that  vil- 
lage became  Christians. 


Gospel  According  to  Telephone  Book    291 

But  everybody  in  China  cannot  be 
trundled  to  far  away  hospitals  in  wheel- 
barrows ;  I  wonder  if  you  ever  thought 
that  because  we  have  seen  drug  stores, 
and  doctors,  and  nurses,  and  dentists, 
that  we  owe  something  to  the  people 
who  get  just  as  sick  as  we  do^  When 
you  go  home,  look  up  the  questions  on 
your  card  in  the  telephone  book,  and 
you  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  much 
more  we  Christians  have  than  we  really 
need. 


THIRTY-EIGHTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:  "The  Great  Physician" 

THREE  KNOCKS  IN  THE  NIGHT 


HIGH  CASTE  PATIENTS  AT  SCHELL  HOSPITAL 
WITH   DR.   IDA    SCUDDER 

1.  Tell   what   happens   at   each   of  the   knocks   the 
minute  Miss  Scudder  her  door  unlocks? 

Ans 

2.  Tell  why  Miss  Scudder  decided  that  she  should 
put  after  her  name  the  initials  M.  D.? 

Ans 

3.  Tell  how  she  spends  one  day  of  each  week,  and 
about  all  the  people  who  medicine  seek. 

A71S 

292 


THIRTY-EIGHTH  STORY 

^^  THREE   KNOCKS   IN   THE 
NIGHT" 

Here  is  another  true  story  about 
which  I  have  just  read.  Once  there 
was  a  young  girl  named  Ida  Scudder, 
who  went  to  school  here  in  America, 
while  her  father  and  mother  lived  in 
India,  but  she  always  said:  ^^I^m  never 
going  to  live  in  India,  though,  there  are 
quite  enough  Scudders  there  now!'^ 
Because,  you  know,  her  father  was  one 
of  our  very  own  doctor  missionaries, 
and  her  grandfather  w^as  another  one 
of  our  missionaries,  and  lots  of  aunts 
and  uncles  and  cousins.  She  thought 
there  were  quite  enough  without  her. 

But  after  she  graduated  from  college 
her  father  sent  her  a  cablegram  saying 
her  mother  was  very  ill  and  wanted  her 
to  come  out  to  India  at  once.  Then  all 
her  friends  said:  ''Oh  Ida,  we  just 
293 


294  Thirty-eighth  Story 

know  you  will  stay  over  there  and  be 
a  missionary!'' 

^^Oh  no,  I  won't!"  she  said,  ''I'm 
only  going  to  visit  mother,  then  I  shall 
come  back." 

So  off  she  went.  But  late  one  night 
after  she  got  to  India,  a  knock  sounded 
on  their  front  door.  She  opened  it,  and 
there  stood  a  man  breathing  very  hard 
because  he  had  run  a  long  way.  ''O  doc- 
tor sahib!"  he  panted,  ''come  at  once 
to  see  my  poor  little  wife,  she  is  very 
sick,  I  fear  she  will  die,  she  needs  your 
care  at  once." 

"I  am  not  a  doctor,"  said  Miss  Ida 
Scudder  sadly,  "but  my  father  is  a  doc- 
tor and  he  will  gladly  come  to  see  your 
wife." 

"No!  Never!  "said  the  man,  "no  man 
has  ever  seen  my  wife's  face,  I  w^ould 
rather  have  her  die  than  disgrace  my- 
self that  way.  I  had  heard  that  you 
were  a  doctor!" 

"I  am  sorry!"  said  Miss  Scudder,  as 
the  man  walked  slowly  away,  looking 
very  much  discouraged.    She  sat  down 


Three  Knocks  in  the  Night       295 

and  began  to  think  how  terrible  it  was 
that  the  men  in  India  had  such  an  ab- 
surd custom  that  a  man  could  not  see 
their  wives.  Then  there  was  another 
knock,  and  another  man  stood  there, 
worried  and  hurried:  ^'Mem  Sahib,"  he 
said  salaaming,  ^^you  are  a  heaven-born 
doctor,  come  and  cure  my  wife — evil 
spirits  have  entered  her,  which  only 
you  can  help.'' 

^'But  I  am  not  a  doctor!''  said  Miss 
Scudder.  '^I  will  send  my  father  to 
your  house,  though,  he  is  a  doctoro" 

**That  can  never  be!"  said  the  poor 
husband,  *^for  no  strange  man  has  ever 
looked  at  my  wife. ' '  So  he  walked  away 
slowly,  very  unhappy  indeed. 

You  can  just  imagine  how  Miss  Scud- 
der felt  as  she  thought  of  the  two  poor 
little  wives.  Then  there  came  a  third 
knock,  and  the  very  same  thing  hap- 
pened: another  husband  needed  her  at 
once  for  his  wife,  and  no  man-doctor 
would  do! 

So  that  very  night  Miss  Ida  Scudder 
decided  that  God  certainly  needed  her 


296  Thirty-eighth  Story 

as  a  missionary  doctor  in  India.  She 
came  back  to  America  to  study  hard, 
then  she  went  back  to  India  to  become 
the  Doctor  Ida  Scudder  whom  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  women  and  girls,  in 
India  to-day,  love. 

She  lives  in  a  city  called  Vellore, 
where  you  and  I  have  a  beautiful  hos- 
pital called,  ^^The  Mary  Taber  Schell 
Hospital  for  Women."  You  never 
knew  any  one  lady  so  beautifully  busy 
from  morning  till  night.  It  would  be 
like  playing  ^^Tag''  to  keep  track  of  her 
all  day,  but  I  thought  it  would  be  fun  to- 
day to  tell  you  how  they  say  she  spends 
her  Wednesdays! 

Sundays,  Mondays,  Tuesdays,  Thurs- 
days, Fridays,  Saturdays  she  is  in  our 
hospital,  seeing  hundreds  of  patients, 
prescribing  medicine  for  them,  opera- 
ting on  them,  visiting  in  their  homes, 
but  bright  and  early  on  Wednesday 
mornings  she  gets  up  very  early.  By  six- 
thirty  she  is  in  an  automobile  which 
some  kind  American  lady  gave  her. 
There  is  really  hardly  room  for  her  and 


Three  Knocks  in  the  Night       297 

her  assistant,  because  the  auto  is  so  full 
of  boxes  of  medicine,  big  bottles,  little 
bottles,  all  sorts  of  instruments,  and  the 
other  things  doctors  need.  They  rush 
along  the  road  for  about  six  miles, 
when  they  come  to  a  big  crowd  of  fifty 
women,  who  seem  to  be  waiting  for  her ! 
So  she  pretends  that  a  tree  is  her  office, 
and  begins  asking  the  patients  questions 
and  prescribing  them  medicines.  Even 
the  chauffeur  helps,  for  he  can  rub  in 
ointments  and  tell  a  patient  how  to  take 
her  powders.  You  see,  they  never  had 
a  doctor  before,  so  they  have  to  be  told 
everything:  ''This  is  the  way  you  open 
the  paper ;  this  is  the  way  you  swallow 
the  powder;  this  is  the  way  you  throw 
away  the  paper.  No !  no !  don't  swallow 
the  paper!  Throw  it  away!  No!  no! 
don't  take  all  the  medicine  at  once,  it 
won't  do  you  any  good  that  way.  Yes, 
I  know  it's  easier  to  swallow  all  the  pills 
and  have  it  over  with,  but  you  won't  get 
well  unless  you  do  as  the  doctor  says!" 
Etc.!    Etc.! 

Sometimes  the  patients  get  very  much 


298  Thirty-eighth  Story 

provoked  when  the  doctor  says  they 
mustn't  expect  to  get  well  right  away. 
One  old  woman  who  had  a  disease  she 
had  had  tiventy  years  wanted  the  doc- 
tor to  cure  her  in  two  days! 

Dr.  Scudder  next  rushes  along  the 
road  in  her  auto  to  the  next  stopping 
place  where  there  is  another  crowd  of 
fifty  women,  and  about  a  hundred  and 
fifty  curious  neighbors  looking  on !  Af- 
.ter  she  gives  medicine  to  them,  she 
rushes  on  to  two  more  stopping  places, 
with  crowds  of  people  waiting  for  her 
everywhere.  She  has  a  hurried  lunch- 
eon, then  starts  back,  and  all  along  the 
road  are  more  crowds  of  sick  people. 
In  the  morning  the  people  who  Jive  on 
one  side  of  the  road  gather  to  be  cured ; 
in  the  afternoon,  on  her  way  back,  the 
people  on  the  other  side  of  the  road 
gather. 

It  is  eight  o'clock  and  quite  dark  by 
the  time  she  gets  back  home  to  Vellore ! 
You  can't  imagine  how  tired  she  is,  for 
during  her  ride  of  forty-six  miles  she 
has    treated    three    hundred    patients. 


Three  KInocks  in  the  Night       299 

And  they  say  she  does  it  every  ^Vednes- 
day! 

I  think  it  is  very  wonderful  what  our 
very  own  Dr.  Scudder  can  do  for  Jesus, 
who  when  He  was  here  among  men  was 
known  as  the  Greatest  Physician  of  all ! 


THIRTY-NINTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:  "The  Great  Physician" 

WHAT  ONE  LITTLE  GIRL 
BECAME 


1.  Why  did  the  mother  think  'twould  do  good  if 
she  hid  in  the  ground  some  nice  Burman  food? 

Ans 

2.  What  did  the  mother  say  cats  and  dogs  were? 
And  what  may  they  mean  by  each  bark  and  each 
purr? 

Ans 

3.  What  kind  of  scholar  did  Mah  Bin  make?  And 
how  many  scholarships  did  she  take? 


4.  Where  did   she  go  to   study  to  be  a  doctor  of 
very  highest  degree? 

Ans 

300 


THIRTY-NINTH   STORY 

^^WHAT  ONE  LITTLE  GIRL 
BECAME'' 

All  the  good  Christian  doctors  in  the 
world  are  not  American  doctors,  al- 
though we  get  in  the  habit  of  thinking 
they  are,  so  to-day  I  thought  I  would  tell 
you  the  true  story  of  a  little  Burman 
girl  named  Mali  Bin. 

To  begin  with,  she  was  just  about  the 
dirtiest  little  girl  in  the  dirtiest  little 
village  up  in  the  hills  of  Burma  that 
you  ever  heard  of.  She  positively  never 
combed  her  black  hair,  nor  took  a  bath, 
and  she  chewed  a  horrid  betel  nut  which 
made  her  white  teeth  red  and  black  and 
dreadful-looking. 

The  bamboo  hut  she  lived  in  was  built 
way  up  in  the  air  on  stilts,  to  keep  the 
floor  of  the  house  from  getting  damp 
when  the  rainy  season  should  come.  Of 
course,  it  kept  the  snakes  out,  too ! 

One  day  as  Mah  Bin  was  running 
301 


302  Thirty-ninth  Story 

along  the  village  road,  a  dog  followed 
her.  She  kept  on  running  and  looking 
over  her  shoulder  at  the  dog,  when  sud- 
denly she  stumbled  and  fell,  skinning 
her  knee  quite  badly.  She  went  limp- 
ing home,  and  climbed  up  the  ladder  to 
her  home  on  stilts.  Her  mother  did 
nothing  at  all  to  make  the  bleeding  knee 
feel  better,  but  she  hurried  away  to  the 
spot  where  Mah  Bin  had  fallen,  carry- 
ing a  tray  of  rice  and  decayed  fish, 
which  the  Burmans  love  to  eat.  She 
dug  a  hole  in  the  ground  with  a  stick, 
and  buried  all  the  food.  Along  came  a 
missionary  and  asked  her  what  she  was 
doing.  So  she  told  how  in  the  ground 
there  lived  an  evil  spirit  (called  a  nat 
in  Burma)  who  was  evidently  angry  at 
her  little  girl,  and  had  made  her  fall 
down.  The  mother  went  on  to  explain 
that  the  dog  who  had  been  following  her 
daughter  was  doubtless  a  relative!  You 
see,  the  Burmans  believe  that  when  a 
person  dies  he  may  be  born  over  again 
as  a  cat  or  a  dog,  and  such  an  animal 
would  naturally  want  to  follow  his  hu- 


What  One  Little  Girl  Became     303 

man  relatives  around !  That  is  the  rea- 
son why  the  Burmans  never  dare  to  eat 
meat,  for  fear  they  might  be  eating  an 
uncle  or  an  aunt  or  a  cousin ! 

Because  the  missionary  knew  how 
untrue  all  this  was,  she  had  started  a 
little  school  in  this  village,  and  invited 
Mali  Bin  to  come  with  the  others.  There 
were  no  chairs  and  no  desks.  The  pu- 
pils were  terribly  dirty  and  stupid,  but 
letter  by  letter,  and  word  by  word,  they 
began  learning  things.  Mali  Bin  had 
quite  waked  up,  she  tried  to  be  just  ex- 
actly like  the  missionary,  and  became 
the  star  of  the  class. 

^'I  do  so  want  to  learn  more!''  she 
said  when  she  was  through  that  school. 
So  the  missionary  sent  her  away  to  a 
fine  Mission  Boarding  School.  You 
would  not  have  known  her  at  that  school 
as  the  same  dirty  stupid  village  girl  who 
had  never  combed  her  hair.  She  was 
now  the  prettiest  loveliest  girl,  with  her 
smooth  black  hair  coiled  on  top  of  her 
head  and  a  pretty  pink  flower  tucked 
in  it.  She  wore  a  pale  blue  skirt,  oh  very 


304  Thirty-ninth  Story 

very  tight  around  her,  a  spotless  little 
white  jacket  and  a  pale  pink  scarf  float- 
ing around  her  shoulders.  She  was  the 
brightest  girl  in  boarding  school,  and 
when  she  graduated  she  said  she  did  so 
much  want  to  go  to  college.  Only  boys 
went  to  college  in  Burma,  in  those  days, 
so  they  said,  of  course,  it  would  not  be 
proper  for  her  to  go, — unless,  perhaps 
with  a  chaperone ! 

^^Then  please  get  me  a  chaperone!" 
she  begged,  ^^I  know  I  can  go  through 
our  Mission  College,  if  boys  can!" 

Some  of  the  missionaries  promised  to 
chaperone  her,  then,  seeing  how  very 
much  in  earnest  she  was.  It  must  have 
been  rather  hard  for  them  to  get  time 
to  do  it,  too,  for  every  day,  when  she 
went  to  the  men's  college,  a  missionary 
lady  sat  beside  her ! 

Mali  Bin  was  so  very  bright  in  college 
that  when  she  graduated  she  won  what 
is  called  a  scholarship.  No  woman  had 
ever  won  it  before !  It  meant  she  could 
have  a  chance  to  study  some  more,  and, 
of  course,  was  a  very  high  honor. 


What  One  Little  Girl  Became    305 

There  was  a  big  wish  down  in  her 
heart  to  be  a  doctor,  so  she  could  help 
the  sick  women  and  girls  in  Burma. 
Perhaps  she  remembered  some  of  the 
foolish  useless  Burman  customs,  like 
the  silly  food  her  mother  had  buried  in 
the  earth  for  the  evil  spirit  to  eat,  the 
time  she  fell  down,  years  before.  Mali 
Bin  knew  better  now,  for  she  was  a 
Christian  to  whom  Jesus  meant  every- 
thing in  the  world.  She  loved  to  read 
about  Him,  the  Great  Physician,  who 
at  sunset  time  had  cured  the  sick,  made 
the  lame  people  walk  and  the  blind  peo- 
ple see.  Mali  Bin  said  to  herself : ' '  Per- 
haps if  I  were  only  a  doctor  I  could  be 
a  little  bit  like  Jesus." 

So  she  took  her  scholarship  money 
and  crossed  from  Burma  to  India, 
where  she  spent  four  years  studying 
medicine  in  a  college  at  Calcutta.  It 
was  terribly  hard  work,  day  after  day. 
But  don't  you  just  love  it,  that  after 
four  of  these  hard  years,  our  little  Mah 
Bin  graduated  the  very  highest  in 
all  her  class,  with  another  wonderful 


3o6  Thirty-ninth  Story 

scholarship  of  money  to  go  to  study 
some  more  in  England. 

So  then  she  sailed  miles  and  miles 
away  to  England  and  studied  more 
about  medicine.  Great  doctors  there 
were  interested  in  meeting  this  interest- 
ing young  lady,  who  had  once  been  such 
an  impossibly  dirty  stupid  little  Bur- 
man  girl.  You  would  never  know  it  now 
— for  she  knew  everything  there  was  to 
know  about  sitting  on  chairs,  and  travel- 
ing in  trains,  about  knives  and  forks 
and  spoons,  about  sleeping  in  beds  and 
reading  great  fat  books.  After  three 
years  she  went  back  to  Burma.  But  in- 
stead of  being  puffed  up  with  glory  at 
having  so  many  honors,  she  was  the 
same  dear  simple  Christian  girl  as  be- 
fore. She  sat  on  the  floor  in  the  poorest 
little  hut  to  cure  the  most  unattractive 
kind  of  people. 

They  put  her  in  charge  of  the  large 
Lady  Dufferin  Hospital  in  Rangoon,  a 
place  of  great  honor  and  responsibility. 
This  very  day  she  is  probably  giving  all 
her  time  to  doing  what  Jesus  did  when 


What  One  Little  Girl  Became    307 

he  was  here  among  men — she  heals  the 
sick  and  opens  the  eyes  of  the  blind  and 
helps  the  lame  to  walk. 

Don't  you  love  it?  Don't  you  love  to 
know  that  the  Greatest  Physician  of  all 
has  power  to  take  any  dirtiest  little  girl 
or  boy,  from  some  unknown  village, 
tucked  away  in  unknow^n  hills  anywhere 
in  all  His  world,  and  make  them  over 
into  useful  men  or  women  like  Mah 
Bin? 


FORTIETH  STORY 
Jesus  said:    *'I  am  the  Vine" 

HEEE  COMES  THE  BRIDE! 


1.  Here  is  Manoraina — the  name  that  means 
"Heart's  Joy."  Do  you  wonder  she  would  rather 
have  been  a  little  boy? 

Ans 

,  2.  What  is  the  name  of  her  yards  of  silk  dress? 
And  what  holds  it  on — can  you  possibly  guess? 

Ans 

3.  Tell  of  her  wedding  and  how  she  felt,  as  at 
her  wedding  feast  she  knelt. 

Ans 

308 


FORTIETH  STORY 

^^HERE    COMES    THE    BRIDE'' 

When  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 
He  said  to  His  friends  one  day:  ^'I  am 
the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches,"  then  He 
went  on  to  explain  what  he  meant  in 
these  words : ' '  He  that  abides  in  me,  and 
I  in  him,  can  bring  forth  a  great  deal 
of  fruit;  for  witJiout  me  you  can  do 
nothing.''  This  is  a  very  wonderful 
name  of  Jesus,  and  a  very  easy  one  to 
understand,  for  you  can  make  a  little 
picture  of  a  vine  and  branches  in  your 
mind:  here  is  the  vine  growing  out  of 
the  soil,  [make  a  motion  from  the 
ground  up]  here  are  the  branches  grow- 
ing out  from  the  vine.  [Indicate.]  If 
I  cut  away  the  vine,  and  just  leave  the 
branches,  the  poor  branches  die  and 
never  grow  any  fruit.  Jesus  meant 
that  He  was  the  vine  and  if  we,  the 
branches,  cut  ourselves  off  from  Him, 
309 


310  Fortieth  Story 

we  could  not  grow  any  fruit.  This 
month  I  have  some  stories  for  you 
about  some  people  in  India,  who  never 
heard  of  Jesus,  and  are  proving  just 
what  Jesus  said. 

In  a  certain  mud  hut  in  India  there 
once  lived  a  beautiful  little  brown  girl 
called  Manorama.  On  the  day  of  our 
story  a  little  white  goat  was  skipping 
all  around  the  house,'  but  Manorama 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  which  was 
rather  strange  since  he  was  exactly  like 
''Mary's  little  lamb'' — everywhere  that 
Manorama  went,  he  went  too. 

Inside  the  house  was  a  crowd  of  wo- 
men, fully  nine  or  ten,  who  were  looking 
at  a  beautiful  piece  of  red  silk,  several 
yards  long.  They  felt  it  and  ran  it 
through  their  fingers  saying,  ^^oh!"  and 
'*ah !"  in  all  the  ways  there  are  of  saying 
it!  Then  one  of  them  said:  ''Why 
where  is  Manorama?''  Another  an- 
swered: ''Here  is  her  little  white  goat, 
just  capered  into  the  house,  she  must  be 
somewhere  near."  Then  her  mother 
said:  "There  is  no  time  to  lose,  for 


Here  Comes  the  Bride  311 

there  is  the  courtyard  to  be  fixed  and  the 
feast  prepared.  One  of  you  go  and  find 
her.'^ 

So  quite  an  old  woman  began  looking 
for  Manorama,  but  as  there  was  only  one 
room  in  the  house  and  no  furniture 
to  hide  behind  she  decided  Manorama 
must  be  at  the  village  well,  where  the 
three  palm  trees  grew.  So  she  hurried 
there,  and  sure  enough  found  Mano- 
rama listening  to  the  crowd  of  women 
with  big  water  jars  on  their  heads 
telling  stories.  Not  very  nice  stories, 
either.  Manorama  was  tossing  pebbles 
into  the  well,  while  she  listened,  when 
up  rushed  the  old  woman  and  grabbed 
her  by  the  arm. 

^^Thou  art  wanted  at  home.  Little 
Runaway!''  she  said,  ^^Come  thou  with 
me  at  once,  so  we  may  dress  thee  up 
in  a  beautiful  new  red  silk  saree  and 
fine  jewels!" 

Manorama  jumped  up  gladly,  and 
began  skipping  along  faster  than  the 
old  woman  could  walk. 

"Thy     words     fall     sweetly!'^     she 


312  Fortieth  Story 

laughed,  ^'Is  it  some  feast  of  the  gods 
I  am  to  be  dressed  up  for?'' 

^'Ha!  Ha!"  laughed  the  old  woman, 
^^That  is  a  secret.  Light  of  my  Eyes! 
But  thou  wilt  look  very  beautiful. 
Look  out  there — beware  lest  thy  skirt 
touch  that  outcaste  woman!  Stop  thy 
skipping,  thou  didst  almost  touch  her — 
it  would  be  very  bad  luck  to-day  if  thou 
didst  have  to  take  the  bath  and  the  long 
ceremony  of  purification." 

^^Do  not  worry  so!"  laughed  little 
Manorama.  ^^  Would  I  touch  an  out- 
caste? Of  course  not!  Thou  must  let 
me  skip  because  I  am  happy  at  thy 
words!    Dear  me,  a  red  silk  saree!    Oh 

joy!" 

The  little  white  goat  capered  up  just 
then,  and  Manorama  whispered  in  his 
ear  about  the  new  saree,  and  he  began 
skipping,  too!  But  the  front  yard, 
which  was  only  sand,  was  being  marked 
in  patterns  by  one  of  the  women,  she 
smoothed  it  all  down  then  traced  de- 
signs on  it  with  a  stick ;  so  she  soon  put 
a  stop  to  the  capering  of  the  goat  and 


Here  Comes  the  Bride  313 

Manorama,  who  hurried  indoors  to  be 
dressed  in  the  wonderful  silk  saree ! 

The  saree  was  about  six  yards  of 
straight  unsewed  goods,  which  was 
folded  and  draped  around  Manorama 
without  using  a  button,  or  a  buttonhole, 
or  a  pin ! 

^^But  won't  it  come  undone  and  drop 
off^''  you  ask. 

It  comes  very  near  doing  that  every 
ten  minutes  or  so  during  the  day,  but 
all  the  little  Hindu  girls  become  quite 
handy  in  looping  themselves  tighter  in 
their  sarees,  whenever  they  feel  them 
slipping  loose! 

After  the  red  silk  saree  was  on  Man- 
orama, her  mother  clasped  many  glass 
bracelets  on  her  arms  and  many  gold 
rings  on  her  fingers  and  some  on  her 
bare  brown  toes,  too,  since  she  never 
wore  shoes  or  stockings.  There  were 
gold  anklets  around  her  ankles,  neck- 
laces around  her  neck,  long  floppy  ear- 
rings in  her  ears,  and  funniest  of  all,  a 
blue  dangle  hung  from  her  nose !  How 
she  did  tinkle  and  jingle  as  she  said: 


314  Fortieth  Story 

^'Mj  mother,  thou  art  making  me  very 
beautiful — surely  it  must  be  for  some 
feast  to  the  gods'?" 

^'No!''  sighed  her  mother,  ^^No,  this 
is  thy  wedding  day,  thou  wilt  be  married 
to-day  to  Ananta,  a  young  man  of  our 
caste  whom  thy  father  has  arranged 
matters  with!" 

Then  all  the  sparkle  w^ent  out  of  Man- 
orama's  eyes,  and  all  the  happiness  left 
her  skipping  tinkling  feet.  ' '  No !  No ! " 
she  screamed,  '^I  will  not  be  married, 
I  do  not  want  a  mother-in-law,  I  do  not 
want  to  leave  my  little  white  goat  and 
thee,  my  mother!"  All  the  women 
standing  around  laughed  a  little  sadly, 
as  they  said:  ^^When  we  were  her  age, 
said  we  not  those  very  words?  Thou 
wilt  get  us-^d  to  it  soon." 

But  Manorama  kept  right  on  crying, 
and  in  walked  her  father.  At  the  sight 
of  his  big  white  turban  all  the  women 
bowed  very  low  and  said:  *^ Salaam, 
O  master ! ' '  But  he  grabbed  Manorama 
by  the  arm  and  said:  *^ Cease  thy  cry- 
ing— the  feasting  has  begun — art  thou 


Here  Comes  the  Bride  315 

a  boy  to  say  'no,  I  will  not/  or  'yes,  I 
wilH'  The  gods  look  with  disgust  on 
a  woman ^s  tears.'   Come." 

And  he  dragged  her  out  where  a  great 
many  people  were  sitting  on  the  ground 
with  brass  plates  before  them  on  which 
curry  and  rice  were  piled.  It  was  a 
long  feast,  so  long  that  poor  little  Man- 
orama  cried  herself  to  sleep  in  the  mid- 
dle of  it,  where  we  will  leave  her  until 
next  week,  poor  little  girl ! 

You  see,  she  was  only  nine  years  old, 
and  I  think  we  all  feel  terribly  sorry 
for  her.  Manor ama  means  ''Heart's 
Joy,"  but  I'm  afraid  she  does  not  fit 
her  namQ — ^yet  I 


FORTY-FIRST   STORY 
Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Vine" 

THE   LITTLE   GIKL  WHOM 
NOBODY' LOVED 


1.  Here  is  the   "Jiitkcr — what  does  it  mean?     In 
the  shafts  what  animals  stand  between? 


Ans. 


2.  What  is  a  "zenana'' — who  lives  there,  I  mean? 
And  who  is  it  cannot  inside  be  seen? 


Ans. 


3.  When  the  husband  got   sick  what  did  they   do 
so  the  poor  man  even  sicker  grew? 


Ans. 


4.  When   finally   he   died,    please   state   what   tht-y 
said,  and  why  did  they  shave  Manorama's  nice  head? 


Ans. 


3i6 


FORTY-FIRST  STORY 

^^THE    LITTLE    GIRL    WHOM 
NOBODY    LOVED'' 

Last  week  you  will  remember  that  we 
left  Manorama  asleep  at  lier  very  long 
wedding  feast.  To-day  I  am  going  to 
tell  you  some  more  of  her  story,  for 
after  the  feast  was  over,  her  father 
picked  her  up,  still  sound  asleep,  and 
put  her  into  a  ''jufka/'  which  is  a  bul- 
lock cart.  The  bullocks  began  their 
slow  walking,  the  big  wheels  began  their 
squeaky  creaking,  and  the  cart  began 
bouncing  her,  but  she  was  so  tired  out 
with  crying  that  she  slept  through  it 
all,  until  she  woke  up  to  find  that  the 
cart  had  stopped  before  quite  a  large 
house  with  a  verandah,  into  which  her 
father  carried  her.  A  servant  followed 
with  big  bundles  full  of  her  new  clothes 
and  jewelry,  which  are  called  ''dowry" 
and  which  helped  persuade  the  new 
317 


3i8  Forty-first  Story 

mother-in-law  to  have  her  son  marry 
Manorama. 

Manorama  had  to  salaam  to  this 
mother-in-law  who  looked  her  over 
carefully:  '^Yes!  yes!  quite  a  nice  little 
girl!''  she  said,  *^and  very  fine  jewels. 
I  will  make  her  into  a  good  wife  for 
my  son!" 

So  then  there  was  another  long  feast, 
after  which  Manorama 's  father  sa- 
laamed, and  got  into  the  bullock  cart  to 
drive  home. 

Manorama  knelt  in  the  dust  before 
him:  ^^Oh  my  father,''  she  begged,  cry- 
ing, '^do  take  me  back  to  my  little  white 
goat  and  to  our  gods,  I  shall  die  if  I 
stay  here  with  these  strange  people!" 

Then  the  new  mother-in-law  laughed 
and  said :  ' '  The  words  of  Manorama  are 
the  same  words  I  said  when  I  was  mar- 
ried when  I  was  nine — we  are  all  alike — 
she  will  be  happier  soon." 

So  Manorama 's  father  rode  away  in 
the  bullock  cart,  and  lonely  days  fol- 
lowed for  the  little  bride  who  was  left 
behind.    Her  mother-in-law  taught  her 


Girl  Whom  Nobody  Loved       319 

the  ways  of  the  household,  but  she  only 
cried;  her  husband's  sisters  admired 
her  new  sarees  and  her  fine  jewelry,  but 
she  only  cried ;  in  fact  she  cried  so  much 
that  they  told  her  the  gods  would  be 
angry  with  her.  She  saw  very  little  of 
her  new  husband,  because  she  was  not 
correctly  taught  by  his  mother  yet; 
then  too,  the  women  in  a  Hindu  house- 
hold live  by  themselves  in  a  part  of  the 
house  called  the  Zenana,  and  they  are 
not  allowed  to  leave  it  or  go  out  on  the 
street  without  the  consent  of  the  hus- 
band. So  it  was  all  very,  very  stupid 
for  little  Manorama, — no  goat  to  love, 
no  village  well  to  visit,  nobody  but  these 
cross  new  women  who  got  mad  at  her 
for  crying  so  much. 

But  about  two  weeks  later  something 
perfectly  dreadful  happened.  Ananta, 
Manorama 's  husband,  suddenly  became 
very  ill,  he  lay  on  the  floor  and  moaned 
and  groaned! 

^^It  is  evil  spirits  inside  him!''  his 
mother  cried.  She  offered  rice  to  the 
idols  on  the  little  shelf,  then  she  called 


320  Forty-first  Story 

in  all  her  neighbors  who  beat  on  drums 
and  tin  pans  all  night  long  hoping  to 
scare  away  the  spirits !  Of  course,  you 
and  I  know  that  what  he  needed  was 
quiety  so  he  could  sleep,  so  we  are  not 
surprised  that  by  morning  all  this  hor- 
rible noise  had  made  him  much  worse. 

So  his  mother  called  in  a  Hindu  doc- 
tor, who  wasn't  what  we  would  call  a 
doctor,  at  all !  He  tried  to  look  exceed- 
ingly wise,  as  he  heated  a  piece  of  iron 
until  it  was  red  hot,  then  he  laid  it  on 
the  young  man's  arm  saying  it  would 
let  the  evil  spirit  out!  But,  of  course,  it 
only  made  him  worse  than  ever.  Then 
they  tried  shaking  the  evil  spirit  out  of 
him,  until  finally  poor  tired  sick  Ananta 
did  the  only  thing  that  was  left  for  him 
to  do  after  all  this  dreadful  treatment, 
he  died,  and  although  that  was  a  great 
deal  better  for  him  in  every  way,  it 
made  everything  very  much  worse  for 
little  Manorama. 

'^It  is  Manorama 's  fault!''  everybody 
said.  ^^You  have  killed  your  husband, 
you  wicked  girl!" 


Girl  Whom  Nobody  Loved       321 

**No!  no!  I  had  nothing  to  do  with 
him ! ' '  cried  Manorama,  but  down  in  her 
heart  she  knew  that  every  time  a  man 
in  India  dies  it  is  someliow  always  the 
fault  of  his  wife.  She  could  not  imag- 
ine what  she  had  ever  done  to  liim  to 
make  him  so  sick,  but  in  rushed  his 
mother  and  tore  off  her  lovely  red  saree 
and  her  green  silk  jacket ;  she  jerked  off 
her  necklaces,  bracelets,  rings,  anklets 
and  ear-rings;  she  shaved  off  Mano- 
rama's  lonely  black  glossy  hair;  then 
she  kicked  her  roughly  and  gave  her  a 
dirty  old  white  cotton  saree  to  wear. 

^*  There  now,  you  worthless  dust  un- 
der my  feet,  go  and  hide  yourself !  You 
have  killed  my  precious  son,  you  ter- 
rible girl!    Alas!    Alas!" 

All  that  night  there  was  terrible 
weeping  and  wailing  in  the  house,  while 
poor  little  Manorama  sat  out-doors  un- 
der a  palm-tree  and  wondered  how  the 
moon  could  look  so  cheerful. 

In  the  morning  she  crept  to  the  vil- 
lage well  for  a  drink  of  water,  but  she 
had  no  cup  so  she  waited  until  a  woman 


322  Forty-first  Story 

came  along.  She  timidly  touched  her 
arm:  ^*I  pray  thee,  give  me  a  drink 
from  thy  water  jar!'' 

You  never  saw  anyone  so  furious  as 
that  woman !  ' '  How  dare  you  touch  me, 
you  miserable  scum  of  the  earth!"  she 
cried.  ^^You  vile  outcaste!  You  de- 
spised widow!  You  have  spoiled  my 
morning  for  now  I  must  take  a  bath 
and  go  through  the  ceremony  of  puri- 
fication/' 

Then  poor  Manorama  knew  the  worst 
— she  knew  that  as  long  as  she  lived  she 
must  never  touch  anybody,  or  let  her 
shadow  fall  on  anybody,  for  she  was  an 
outcaste,  whom  nobody  loved  or  wanted, 
a  widow  whom  the  gods  hated. 

^^I  will  walk  back  to  my  old  village 
and  to  my  mother  and  my  little  white 
goat,"  she  said  to  herself,  'Hliey  will  be 
glad  to  see  me."  So  hungry  and  thirsty, 
she  began  the  long  weary  walk  back 
to  the  village  of  the  Three  Palm  Trees, 
where  we  will  leave  her  to-day. 


FORTY-SECOND  STORY 
Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Vine" 

THE  LITTLE  GIRL  WHO  FOUND 
SOMEONE  TO  LOVE  HER 


1.  What  did  the  mother  say  to  her  daughter,  show- 
ing she  really  needn't  have  sought  her? 


Ans. 


2.  Tell   of   the   pilgrimage   the   widows   made    and 
what  kinds  of  offerings  before  idols  they  laid? 


Ans. 


3.  What  do  you  think  of  the  priests  and  the  cows 
before  whom  Manorama  made  very  deep  bows? 


Ans. 


4.  Who  was  it  finally  who  gave  her  some  love  and 
told  her  of  Christ  who  loved  her  above? 

Ans 


323 


FORTY-SECOND  STORY 

^'THE  LITTLE  GIRL  WHO  FOUND 
SOMEONE  TO  LOVE  HER'' 

Last  week  we  left  Manorama  wearily 
walking  back  to  her  mother's  village, 
because  after  her  husband's  death  she 
found  herself  outcaste,  with  no  friends 
at  all.  I  hardly  know  how  she  managed 
to  walk  such  a  long  distance,  but  finally 
she  reached  the  Village  of  the  Three 
Palm  Trees  and  hurried  as  fast  as  she 
could  to  her  own  little  house. 

''My  mother!"  she  called,  ''thy  little 
Manorama  has  come  home!" 

Her  mother  rushed  out  in  great  sur- 
prise. "Manorama!"  she  exclaimed, 
and  almost  threw  her  arms  around  the 
little  girl's  neck,  when  she  noticed  her 
head  with  all  the  hair  shaved  off  and 
her  dirty  old  white  saree.  So  she  drew 
back  and  said:  "Alas!  Alas!  where  are 
thy  jewels  and  thy  lovely  saree?" 

"Oh  my  mother!"  said  little  Mano- 
324 


Girl  Whom  Someone  Loved      325 

rama,  'Hlie  gods  have  taken  away  the 
husband  my  father  chose  for  me,  and  I 
am  a  widow !  My  mother-in-law  threw 
me  out  of  her  house,  but  I  knew  there 
was  love  for  me  in  thy  heart,  so  I  have 
come  home  to  be  thy  little  slave,  to  fetch 
and  carry  for  thee,  to  find  peace,  and 
play  with  my  little  white  goat  again." 

But  her  mother  shook  her  head  sadly : 
^'Thou  wilt  not  find  peace  in  this  house, 
my  daughter,  for  thy  father  will  not 
have  love  in  his  heart  when  he  sees  thee 
in  disgrace,  an  untouchable — an  out- 
caste.  Peace  is  a  gift  that  only  the  gods 
can  give,  and  it  would  not  please  them 
to  see  thee  happily  playing  like  a  little 
unmarried  girl.  Sadness  fills  my  heart 
to  tell  thee  these  cruel  things." 

Then  Manorama  understood  that  she 
was  not  welcome  in  her  mother's  home, 
either,  and  after  her  mother  had  given 
her  food,  she  said:  ''My  mother,  I  am 
only  a  little  girl,  and  it  will  be  well  for 
me  to  find  peace  as  soon  as  I  can.  If  I 
make  a  pilgrimage,  will  that  bring  me 
peace  *?" 


326  Forty-second  Story 

^^Thou  has  spoken  well!'^  said  her 
mother.  ^'An  elderly  widow  from  this 
village  starts  out  on  a  pilgrimage  to- 
morrow. Being  an  outcaste  herself  she 
will  not  mind  having  thee  with  her.  I 
will  give  thee  money  and  some  jewels 
for  the  priests  at  the  shrines.  Now  go 
and  hide  behind  the  zenana  curtain,  so 
thy  father  may  not  see  thee.    Hurry !  ■ ' 

So  all  night  Manorama  hid  behind  the 
curtain,  and  the  next  day  her  mother 
gave  her  some  money  and  jewels,  but 
she  did  not  touch  her.  For  she  remem- 
bered Manorama  was  a  widow!  Then 
Manorama  hurried  off  to  find  the 
grown-up  widow,  and  together  they 
started  off  on  their  pilgrimage,  the  lit- 
tle widow  who  was  nine  years  old  and 
the  grown-up  widow  who  was  forty 
years  old. 

You  have  no  idea  of  the  endless  things 
they  did  to  get  peace !  On  festival  days 
when  the  priests  led  the  sacred  cows  out 
of  their  stalls  and  led  them  through  the 
streets  covered  by  a  great  red  parasol, 
Manorama  would  weave  long  garlands 


Girl  Whom  Someone  Loved      327 

of  yellow  marigolds  and  hang  them 
around  the  cows'  necks  to  gain  merit 
with  the  gods,  who  are  supposed  to  love 
the  sacred  cows.  Or  when  they  reached 
a  sacred  river  in  which  people  bathed 
to  gain  merit  with  the  gods,  Manorama 
also  bathed,  and  sent  a  wreath  of  flow- 
ers floating  down  the  river  with  a  little 
prayer  to  the  gods  to  give  her  peace. 
Once  she  crawled  on  her  hands  and 
knees  for  miles  and  miles  to  a  sacred 
shrine,  thinking  this  would  surely 
please  the  idol,  because  her  hands  got 
sore  and  her  saree  got  torn  and  dusty. 
She  spent  all  her  money  in  the  temples, 
making  offerings  of  incense  to  the  idols, 
or  of  food.  But  whenever  she  or  the 
other  widow  asked  the  priests  about 
gaining  peace,  the  priests  would  say: 
''The  gods  cannot  give  peace  to  a 
woman — but  perhaps  when  you  die  you 
will  be  born  again  as  a  man,  then  you 
can  gain  peace.'' 

But,  of  course,  that  seemed  a  very 
long  way  off,  and  they  got  very  hope- 
less and  forlorn.     The  priests  ate  the 


328  Forty-second  Story 

offerings  they  made  to  the  idols,  and 
the  idols  themselves  seemed  so  ugly  and 
heartless  and  tvooden — their  faces  so 
hard  and  cruel — their  big  hands  so  help- 
less. Poor  little  Manorama  used  to  feel 
a  hundred  years  old^  she  was  so  tired 
and  hopeless! 

I  know  you  must  be  tired  of  this 
dreadful  story,  and  will  be  glad  to 
know  that  one  evening,  when  they  were 
far,  far  from  home,  they  heard  singing 
out  under  the  stars.  They  hurried  to 
it,  and  there  by  the  light  of  some  lan- 
terns stood  one  of  our  very  own  mis- 
sionaries telling  the  story  of  Jesus' 
wonderful  name,  how  He  is  the  vine  and 
we  are  the  branches,  that  only  as  we 
grow  with  Jesus  and  live  with  Jesus 
can  we  be  happy,  and  jind  peace!  How 
Manorama  and  the  other  widow  did 
listen,  as  she  explained  about  the  little 
Prince  of  Peace,  born  on  Christmas 
Day,  who  spent  all  His  life  giving  peace 
to  all  who  love  Him.  Every  single  word 
made  these  two  widows  happier  and 
happier. 


Girl  Whom  Someone  Loved       329 

^^Oh  let  us  get  down  into  this  new 
Jesus  religion/'  Manorama  whispered, 
and  after  the  meeting  they  crept  up  and 
asked  question  after  question:  ^^Was  it 
true  that  this  Jesus  could  give  peace 
to  women  in  this  life  ^  "  ^ '  To  widows  T" 
''To  outcastes  whom  nobody  wants'?" 

Of  course  our  missionary  said  ''Yes !" 
"Yes!''  to  all  these  questions,  and  put- 
ting her  arm  around  Manorama  she 
said:  "In  Vellore  where  I  live  there  is 
a  school  for  little  girls,  I  want  you  both 
to  come  back  with  me  and  learn  to  read 
more  of  this  wonderful  Jesus." 

It  seemed  too  good  to  be  true  to  Man- 
orama, to  get  two  such  friends  in  one 
day — Jesus,  and  our  missionary.  Be- 
fore long  they  were  in  a  bullock  cart 
traveling  on  their  way  to  Vellore,  where 
we  will  see  them  again  next  week. 


FORTY-THIRD  STORY 
Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Vine" 

TUENING  THEIR  BACKS  ON 
EACH  OTHER 


1.  How  did  she  learn  at  our  school  so  well  how  to 
write  letters  and  how  to  spell? 

■Ans 

2.  Can  you  write  down  the  meaning  of  "Caste"  and 
what  it  has  always  meant  in  the  past? 

Ans 

3.  Why  are  they  standing,  back  to  back,  each  in  her 
clean  little,  neat  littl«»  sack? 

Ann 

4.  When  school  was  over,  where  did  Manorama  go, 
and  on  what  caste  of  people  her  kindness  bestow? 

Ans 

330 


FORTY-THIRD  STORY 

^'TURNING    THEIR    BACKS    ON 
EACH   OTHER'' 

Last  Sunday  I  told  you  how  our  mis- 
sionary became  a  friend  to  poor  lonely 
little  Manorama  and  the  widow  who 
went  with  her  on  their  long  pilgrimage 
to  idol  shrines,  to  find  peace.  Our  mis- 
sionary took  both  of  them  to  Vellore 
with  her,  and  Manorama  began  going 
to  our  school  there. 

She  never  had  dreamed  that  girls 
could  learn  to  read  or  write,  she  had 
supposed  only  boys  could  do  such  things, 
and  she  was  so  excited  about  every 
single  thing  in  our  school.  Of  course 
she  had  to  begin  at  the  very  beginning, 
with  the  tiniest  little  girls  who  were 
learning  to  trace  the  alphabet  in  the 
sand  which  was  spread  out  before  them. 
Of  course  they  sat  on  the  floor,  and  they 
made  the  funny  hooks  and  curves  of 
331 


332  Forty-third  Story 

the  Hindu  alphabet  with  their  fingers. 
Manorama  just  loved  it.  She  wore  a 
bright  pink  petticoat  and  jacket  which 
our  missionary  had  given  her  and  she 
felt  very  happj^  and  clean! 

She  was  so  quick  that  before  long  she 
promoted  into  a  class  of  girls  nearer 
her  own  age,  but  even  in  school  Mano- 
rama had  her  troubles,  because  some  of 
the  girls  did  not  dare  touch  her,  because 
she  was  an  outcaste  widow,  and,  of 
course,  her  shadow  was  bound  to  fall  on 
somebody  occasionally,  and  the  little 
brown  girls  complained  to  their  mothers 
about  ^^that  widow  girl  Manorama." 
Then  perhaps  the  mother  told  the  fa- 
ther, and  the  father  went  to  see  our 
missionary  about  it.  -  His  big  white 
turban  bent  very  low  as  he  salaamed: 
''Mem  Sahib,"  he  said,  which  is  the 
Hindu  way  of  saying  ''Lady,"  "my 
daughter  sits  on  a  bench  in  your  school 
next  to  an  outcaste,  and  my  daughter's 
skirt  touches  the  skirt  of  the  untouch- 
able, and  the  shadow  of  the  little  widow 
falls   on  my   daughter?    Should   such 


Turning  Their  Backs  333 

things  be'?  I  pray  you  have  this  objec- 
tionable outcaste  removed  or  the  gods 
will  look  with  anger  on  us/' 

Our  missionary  knew  just  how  to  an- 
swer him — oh  so  calmly !  Oh  so  politely ! 
She  promised  that  the  skirt  of  his  noble 
daughter  shall  not  touch  the  skirt  of 
the  outcaste  girl,  but  as  for  the  shadows 
— God  sends  His  sun  on  us  all,  because 
He  loves  us  all  alike.  So  she  cannot 
remove  Manorama  from  the  school, 
since  she  is  just  as  precious  in  the  sight 
of  God  as  his  own  noble  daughter,  etc., 
etc.  He  went  away  partly  soothed  and 
our  missionary  felt  glad  that  many  of 
the  girls  w^ere  Christians,  and  were 
treating  Manorama  beautifully. 

The  picture  on  your  cards  shows 
them  in  their  arithmetic  class,  I  am  sure 
you  are  wondering  why  they  are  turn- 
ing their  backs  on  each  other !  It  is  not 
because  they  are  mad,  however,  but  be- 
cause the  girls  in  India,  exactly  like 
girls  in  America,  get  in  the  bad  habit 
of  copying  from  each  other's  slates! 
So  as  soon  as  the  example  has  been 


334  Forty-third  Story 

copied  from  the  blackboard,  our  mis- 
sionary orders  the  class  to  stand  back 
to  back,  until  they  work  out  the  prob- 
lem. 

Manorama  went  to  that  school  for  a 
great  many  years,  until  she  had  gradu- 
ated from  every  class.  You  have  no 
idea  what  a  difference  it  made  in  her! 
Years  and  years  before  she  graduated 
she  became  a  Christian,  and  she  knew 
how  absurd  it  was  to  worship  foolish 
wooden  idols.  She  also  knew  how 
wrong  caste  is,  and  how  much  it  hurts 
all  the  people  in  India.  You  see  there 
are  over  two  thousand  castes,  and  a 
person  from  one  caste  will  not  touch  a 
person  from  another  caste,  or  marry 
into  another  caste.  Then  there  are  the 
outcastes,  the  widows  and  the  people 
who  live  outside  the  villages  and  are 
called  ^^dogs"  and  hated  by  everyone. 

Manorama  had  the  greatest  love  in 
her  heart  for  all  these  people.  ^^I  was 
just  as  unhappy  as  they  are!''  she  told 
our  missionary,  so  I  think  it  was  natural 
for  her  to  decide  that  when  she  gradu- 


Turning  Their  Backs  335 

ated  she  would  go  back  to  her  mother's 
Village  of  the  Three  Palm  Trees  and 
start  a  little  school  for  outcaste  chil- 
dren. Our  missionary  packed  a  black- 
board, some  books  and  other  things  she 
would  need  into  the  bullock  cart  which 
wovild  carry  her  home. 

The  day  she  left  our  missionary 
called  all  the  girls  into  her  room  and 
she  read  them  this  verse:  *'I  am  the 
vine,  ye  are  the  branches,''  and  she  told 
all  the  girls  that  unless  they  kept  with 
Jesus  through  their  vacation  they  could 
not  do  anything  for  Him!  Manorama 
smiled:  ^^He  has  done  so  much  for  me, 
I  can  never  even  begin  to  do  enough 
for  Him!" 

A  week  later  she  was  back  in  the  dirty 
little  village  of  the  Three  Palm  Trees. 
She  had  not  realized  before  how  dirty 
and  shabby  everything  looked  after  our 
clean  mission  school  in  Vellore.  Her 
mother  hardly  knew  this  beautiful  smil- 
ing grown-up  daughter,  who  showed  in 
her  face  how  happy  and  peaceful  she 
was! 


336  Forty-third  Story 

Manorama  spent  day  after  day  tell- 
ing her  about  Jesus,  explaining  that  He 
is  the  vine,  and  we  are  the  branches. 
But  Manorama 's  mother  could  not 
understand  what  '^bearing  fruit  for 
Jesus"  meant,  until  finally  one  day  she 
saw  that  it  was  just  what  Manorama 
was  doing  herself  when  she  started  her 
little  school  under  the  palm  trees,  when 
no  one  was  too  dirty  or  rough  for  Man- 
orama to  love  and  clean  up!  She  saw 
little  widows  chasing  around  after  Man- 
orama all  day,  poor  starved  little 
girls  who  never  had  enough  to  eat  be- 
cause no  one  loved  them.  She  saw  Man- 
orama give  them  her  own  rice,  and  go 
hungry,  so  the  little  girls  could  be  fed. 
She  saw  Manorama  pray  every  even- 
ing to  the  unseen  God^  her  face  bright 
and  happy.  She  heard  Manorama 's 
dear  voice  singing  beautiful  hymns 
about  Jesus  or  telling  w^onderful  sto- 
ries about  Jesus.  Then  one  day  some- 
thing very  sweet  and  peaceful  came 
stealing  into  the  heart  of  Manorama 's 
mother — the  love  of  Jesus!    And  then 


Turning  Their  Backs  337 

she  understood  right  away  what  it 
meant  to  bear  fruit  for  Jesus,  who  is 
the  vine,  while  she  and  Manorama  were 
the  branches. 

''But  there  are  so  many  who  do  not 
know  this  happiness!''  slie  would  say 
at  the  beginning  of  each  busy  day,  and 
Manorama  would  answer:  ''Yes,  my 
mother,  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  lit- 
tle unhappy  girl  widows  and  hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  grown-up  people  too! 
How  wonderful  it  is  Jesus  lets  us  help 
him  this  way!"  And  somehow  it  al- 
ways made  Manorama 's  mother  the 
happiest  woman  in  all  India,  because 
she,  too,  could  help  Jesus  that  day. 


FORTY-FOURTH  STOKY 
Jesus  said:  "I  am  the  Light  of  the  World" 

THE    PEOPLE    THAT    WALKED 
IN    DAEKNESS 


1.  What    do   the    Indians   worship   each   day,    and 
to  whom  address  all  the  prayers  that  they  say? 

Ans 

2.  What  kind  of  a  cradle  had  Laughs-at-the-sky? 
And  where  did  his  mother  her  papoose  often  tie? 

Atis 

3.  Now  I  am  going  to  give  you  the  chance  to  write 
down  how  Big  Horn  dressed  up  for  the  Dance. 

338 


FORTY-FOURTH  STORY 

^^THE   PEOPLE   THAT   WALKED 
IN   DARKNESS'^ 

Once  when  Jesus  was  here  among 
men,  He  said  to  His  friends:  ''I  am  the 
Light  of  the  World,"  a  name  so  beauti- 
ful and  so  easy  to  understand  that  it 
means  a  great  deal  to  everybody.  I 
wonder  if  you  were  ever  lost  in  the 
dark?  PerhaiDS  in  some  dark  room, 
where  you  simply  could  not  see  any- 
thing, or  even  find  out  by  feeling,  where 
you  were?  Probably  you  felt  scared, 
and  thought  you  could  see  the  spooky 
eyes  of  all  sorts  of  dreadful  creatures 
looking  at  you?  Your  heart  beat  fas- 
ter, and  oh!  how  you  did  want  a  light! 
Sometimes  people  have  been  lost  on 
dark  roads,  and  they  could  hear  all  sorts 
of  ghostly  sounds  around  them,  and 
they  wanted  a  light,  too,  the  worst  kind 
of  a  way! 

339 


340  Forty-fourth  Story 

Jesus  is  just  like  that  to  the  heathen 
world:  all  their  lives  the  heathen  have 
been  afraid  of  evil  spirits  whom  they 
cannot  see,  so  they  worship  idols  and 
burn  incense — until  they  know  Jesus! 
Then  they  see!  They  see  that  He  is  the 
Light  of  the  World,  that  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  afraid  of,  and  they  stop  walk- 
ing in  darkness. 

Right  here  in  America  there  has  al- 
ways been  a  race  of  people  with  reddish- 
brown  skins  who  have  walked  in  dark- 
ness, because  they  did  not  know  Jesus  as 
the  Light  of  the  World.  Perhaps  you 
have  guessed  that  I  mean  our  American 
Indians.  They  were  here  in  America 
years  and  years  before  any  white  peo- 
ple came,  and  when  our  Pilgrim  fore- 
fathers landed  on  Plymouth  Rock,  on 
Thanksgiving  Day  in  1620,  it  was  these 
same  red-brown  Indians  who  saw  them 
land. 

From  the  very  first,  the  good  Chris- 
tian people  tried  to  tell  the  Indians 
about  Jesus,  but  as  you  may  remember 
the  Indians  were  not  always  friendly 


People  that  Walked  in  Darkness     341 

to  the  white  men,  and  often  the  white 
men  were  not  fair  to  the  red  men,  as 
Christians  ought  to  be,  so  that  to-day 
there  are  still  thousands  and  thousands 
of  our  Red  Indian  neighbors  who  have 
never  even  heard  the  name  of  Jesus,  but 
who  walk  in  darkness,  worshipping  the 
sun,  and  fearing  the  spirits  who  they 
think  live  in  the  rocks  and  the  trees,  the 
water  and  the  wind. 

Every  time  I  see  the  sheaves  of  yel- 
low corn  stalks  out  in  the  November 
fields,  they  remind  me  of  an  encamp- 
ment of  Indian  tepees,  so  surely  Novem- 
ber is  a  good  month  for  me  to  introduce 
you  to  *^ Smiling  Sunset,''  a  dear  little 
Indian  girl,  and  to  ^^Big  Horn''  and 
^'Laughs-at-the-sky,"  her  brothers. 

Smiling  Sunset  was  born  on  a  beau- 
tiful evening  just  as  the  sun  was  setting, 
so  her  goddess  was  the  sunset  woman, 
and  she  always  faced  west  when  she 
prayed  to  the  spirit  of  the  sun  every 
evening.  At  the  time  our  story  begins 
she  was  about  eleven  years  old,  Big 
Horn  was  twelve,   but  Laughs-at-the- 


342  Forty-fourth  Story 

sky  was  only  a  papoose,  which  is  tlie 
Indian  word  for  '*baby."  He  was  born 
early  one  morning  before  the  moon  and 
the  stars  had  quite  disappeared.  Way 
out  on  the  hills  the  papoose's  father  had 
heard  a  lonely  coyote  bay  at  the  moon, 
so  he  chose  the  name  ^'Laughs-at-the- 
sky"  for  his  new  baby.  The  Indian 
mother  had  the  queerest  cradle  in  the 
world  for  him.  It  was  made  of  boards 
just  a  little  bit  longer  than  the  baby 
itself.  The  mother,  whose  name  was 
Small  Ankle,  laid  the  little  papoose  on 
the  boards  and  tied  him  round  and 
round  with  soft  deer  skins  to  the  board, 
until  his  legs  and  arms  and  body  were 
all  covered,  and  nothing  was  left  out- 
side but  his  surprised  little  head! 
Sometimes  all  day  long  Small  Ankle 
kept  this  queer  cradle  tied  on  her  back, 
but  other  times  she  could  hang  him  up 
on  a  tree  branch  while  she  worked  in 
the  corn  fields  near  their  tepee. 

Bent  Arrow,  the  children's  father, 
was  going  to  a  very  important  Sun 
Dance,  and  the  wdiole  family  were  going 


People  that  Walked  in  Darkness     343 

along.  Big  Horn  was  all  dressed  up  for 
the  fine  occasion  in  his  very  best  clothes. 
He  wore  a  pair  of  trousers  with  long 
fringe  hanging  from  the  seams,  soft 
trousers  made  of  deerskins.  His  father 
had  killed  the  deer,  and  his  mother  had 
stretched  the  skins  out  until  they  were 
dry  and  then  rubbed  them  until  they 
were  soft,  after  which  she  sewed  them 
into  trousers  for  him.  He  wore  a  shirt 
with  beads  all  over  the  front  of  it,  which 
his  mother  had  made,  and  she  also  made 
his  leather  moccasins,  which  are  Indian 
shoes,  you  know.  He  wore  a  blanket 
with  bright  stripes  around  his  shoul- 
ders, and  an  eagle's  feather  in  his  hair, 
which  his  father  gave  him  for  being 
brave. 

Bent  Arrow  was  dressed  a  great  deal 
like  his  little  son,  with  a  blanket  around 
his  shoulders  and  leather  trousers.  He 
wore  his  hair  woven  into  long  braids 
which  hung  over  his  shoulders  in  front, 
and  he  had  painted  his  face  to  make  it 
look  fiercer.  He  also  had  on  a  great 
many  bead  chains  and  big  silver  rings 


344  Forty-fourth  Story 

and  bracelets,  because  this  Sun  Dance 
was  an  unusually  grand  affair. 

Smiling  Sunset  and  her  mother  felt 
very  proud  as  they  sat  in  their  wagon 
and  watched  Bent  Arrow  and  Big  Horn 
prancing  along  beside  them  on  their 
wild  ponies.  Next  Sunday  I  will  tell 
you  the  dreadful  things  that  happened 
at  the  great  Sun  Dance. 


FORTY-FIFTH     STORY 

Jesus  said:  *'I  am  the  Light  of  the  World'* 

THE  SUN  DANCE 


1.  Can  you  remember  the  circumstance  which  led 
Buffalo  Chief  to  have  a  Sun  Dance? 

Ans 

2.  What  is   a   "medicine  bundle,"   pray  tell?     And 
how  can  it  ever  make  people  well? 

Ans 

3.  How  did  they  dance?    And  how  long  did  it  last? 
And   wby   was   poor   Big   Horn   growing   aghast? 

Ans 

345 


FORTY-FIFTH     STORY 

''THE  INDIAN  SUN  DANCE'' 

''Tum!  Tumety-tum-tmn!"  ''Turn! 
Turn !  Tumety  -  turn  -  turn ! ' '  "  Turn ! 
Tumety-tum-tum ! ' ' 

I  am  sure  you  know  right  away  that 
this  must  be  tlie  way  the  music  for  the 
big  Sun  Dance  sounded,  as  the  Indians 
beat  on  their  big  tom-toms  this  mono- 
tonous "tumety-tum-tum/'  hour  after 
hour.  Crowds  and  crowds  of  Indians 
in  bright  blankets  had  been  riding  all 
day  long  to  the  valley  where  the  dance 
was  to  be  held.  Tepees  weie  being  put 
up  for  the  families  to  live  in  during  the 
four  days  and  nights  of  the  dance.  You 
never  saw  such  a  dirty,  untidy,  disor- 
derly camp — flies,  dogs,  dirt,  children, 
more  flies,  more  dogs,  more  dirt — every- 
where T 

There  was  one  great  open  place  where 
the  dance  had  already  begun  and  Bent 
346 


The  Indian  Sun  Dance  347 

Arrow  hurried  over  to  take  his  part. 
Every  Indian  was  very  much  dressed 
up  in  beaded  clothes,  with  quantities  of 
necklaces,  and  their  faces  hideously 
painted  with  bright  red  spots  or  long 
streaks  of  red  and  yellow.  They  sat  on 
the  ground  in  two  long  rows  facing  each 
other;  on  the  posts  behind  them  hung 
fur  bags  of  various  sizes  about  which  I 
must  take  time  to  tell  you,  while  the 
tom-tom  is  beating  its  weird  ''tumety- 
tum-tum!'' 

For  those  fur  bags,  decorated  with 
beads,  contained  what  the  Indians  call 
'^medicine,'' — not  our  kind  of  medicine 
to  be  swallowed  when  one  is  sick,  but 
funny  things  like  a  bit  of  bone,  or  a 
stone,  or  a  seed,  or  a  feather,  or  a  bird's 
claw,  anything  in  fact  which  the  Indians 
think  will  be  a  charm,  or  medicine,  to 
keep  evil  spirits  away  from  them,  and 
good  spirits  witli  them!  There  were 
three  or  four  ^^medicine-men''  at  the 
Dance,  who  had  charms  which  seemed 
very  wonderful  to  every  Indian  there. 
One  medicine-man  had  two  big  white 


348  Forty-fifth  Story 

grinning  skulls  as  his  '^medicine/'  an- 
other medicine-man  had  the  skeleton  of 
a  large  eagle  for  his  ''medicine.''  Of 
course  it  all  sounds  very  foolish  to  us, 
because  we  know  so  well  that  such 
things  are  really  no  good  at  all,  but  all 
those  grown-up  Indians  in  their  feath- 
ers and  paint  and  beads  fully  believed 
that  the  charms  saved  them  from  harm 
every  day.  So  if  grown-up  persons  be- 
lieved in  them,  you  can  just  imagine 
how  impressed  little  Big  Horn  was,  to 
see  so  many  wonderful  bags  full  of 
charms. 

But  the  Sun  Dance  had  begun :  Tum- 
ety-tum-tum !  Tum !  Tum !  Tumety-tum- 
tum !  First  of  all,  four  of  the  Medicine 
Chiefs  stood  up  together,  keeping  step 
with  drums  and  rattles  they  danced 
down  the  length  of  the  green  grass  and 
back  again.  Then  one  by  one  the  men 
sitting  crouched  on  the  ground  in  two 
long  rows  got  up  and  began  to  dance, 
too,  swaying  while  they  kept  step,  back 
and  forth,  for  hours  and  hours  at  a 
time.    Tumety-tum-tum ! 


The  Indian  Sun  Dance  349 

I  can  just  hear  you  saying:  ^^But 
what  in  the  world  is  it  all  about  1" 

Well,  there  was  a  man  named  Buffalo 
Chief,  whose  wife  was  very  sick  in  the 
winter.  He  made  a  vow  that  if  she  got 
well  he  would  give  a  dance  in  honor  of 
the  Sun,  whom  the  Indians  consider  as 
the  Life-giver.  So  she  did  get  well,  and 
he  at  once  invited  fourteen  young  men 
to  come  and  dance  four  whole  days  with 
him  in  honor  of  the  Sun,  who  had  given 
life  to  his  wife.  Bent  Arrow^  was  one 
of  these  fourteen  men ! 

I  can't  begin  to  tell  you  all  the  wicked 
things  that  happened  during  those  four 
dreadful  days  when  they  kept  dancing 
and  dancing  and  dancing  to  the  s]3irit 
of  the  sun.  Some  of  the  men  got  very 
drunk,  they  gambled  away  all  the  money 
they  had,  one  man  even  gambled  away 
his  two  daughters,  and  another  got  so 
wild  he  went  running  around  with  a 
great  knife  trying  to  kill  somebody. 
Poor  little  Big  Horn  got  very  much 
frightened,  and  feared  something  dread- 
ful might  happen  to  his  father  before 


350  Forty-fifth  Story 

long.  But  all  the  time  the  ' '  Turn !  Tum- 
ety-tum-tum!''  kept  up,  and  the  tired 
men  kept  dancing,  dancing,  dancing  in 
honor  of  the  Sun. 

I  think  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that 
while  the  dancing  had  been  going  on, 
one  lonely  white  man,  way  off  on  the 
hills,  had  heard  the  ^^Tum-tumety-tum- 
tum,"  even  above  the  wail  of  the  coyotes 
and  the  sighing  of  the  wind !  So  he  said 
to  himself :  ' '  There  is  something  for  me 
to  do  for  God  over  at  that  dance !  The 
Indians  will  get  wild,  and  there  will  be 
trouble." 

So  that  is  how  one  of  our  very  own 
missionaries  began  riding  over  the 
plains  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  until 
he  reached  the  camp  with  its  cluster  of 
tepees  and  its  noisy  rough  men.  Next 
Sunday  I  am  going  to  tell  you  what  he 
did  after  he  got  to  the  dance. 


FORTY-SIXTH   STORY 

Jesus  said:   "I  am  the  Light  of  the  World" 

THE   SUN   OF   RTdHTEOUSNESS 


1 

"   _     i 

-^ 

.^ 

iAl-v^L 

hay 

li 

1.  What  i\\(>  (iiH'adrul  rhiii-s  liai)iit'ii(Ml  next   clay,  lo 
cause  Beut  Arrows  family  the  greatest  dismay V 

Ans 

2.  Could  medicine-men  mend  his  poor  broken  arm, 
or  keep  his  sick  body  from  coming  to  harm? 


Ans. 


3.  How  did  our  missionary  pro\'e  most  worth  while, 
when  daily  he  rode  to  them  many  a  mile? 

351 


FORTY-SIXTH  STORY 

^^THE   SUN  OF  RIGHTEOUS- 
NESS" 

Last  Sunday  we  had  a  rather  heath- 
enish story  about  the  Sun  Dance,  which 
a  certain  Indian  had  vowed  he  would 
give  to  worship  the  Sun,  if  his  wife  got 
well.  But  the  dance  grew  so  savage, 
and  the  people  watching  the  dance  got 
so  wild,  that  when  our  missionary  ar- 
rived on  the  scene  there  were  very  few 
persons  whose  eyes  were  not  stupid  and 
bulging  and  glassy  with  weariness  and 
drink. 

Big  Horn  was  not  that  way,  but  he 
was  nearly  sick  with  disgust  to  see  his 
father  reeling  and  tottering  around  be- 
cause he  was  so  drunk. 

I  think  it  was  especially  fortunate 
that  our  missionary  happened  to  stum- 
ble across  Big  Horn  as  he  was  lying  on 
the  ground  watching  the  dancing. 
352 


The  Sun  of  Righteousness       353 

^^ Hello,  Sonny!''  said  our  missionary 
cheerfully. 

Big  Horn  looked  up  at  the  strange 
white  face  curiously.  He  had  never 
seen  a  stiff  white  collar,  or  a  necktie, 
before,  or  a  hat  like  the  one  our  mis- 
sionary wore.  But  he  liked  him,  at 
once,  and  it  wasn't  five  minutes  before 
he  told  this  new  friend  how  frightened 
he  was  about  his  drunken  father.  He 
even  took  him  over  to  the  tepee  where 
his  mother,  Laughs-at-the-sky  and  Smil- 
ing Sunset  were  spending  the  four 
days.  The  tepee  was  full  of  women  and 
children,  belonging  to  other  families, 
talking  about  how  rough  and  danger- 
ous the  dance  was  getting.  Big  Horn 
and  his  new  friend  squeezed  inside,  and 
before  anyone  knew  how  it  happened 
our  missionary  was  talking  to  these  ex- 
cited women, — telling  them  a  story, 
even.  You  and  I  would  have  recognized 
it  as  a  Bible  story,  but  it  was  entirely 
new  to  them,  since  they  had  never  even 
heard  the  name  Jesus  before.  But  they 
liked  the  story,  and  they  liked  our  mis- 


354  Forty-sixth  Story 

sionary,  too,  so  when  he  invited  them  to 
come  to  hear  more  stories  the  next  day, 
they  were  glad  to  promise  they  would 
come. 

But  the  next  day  two  terrible  things 
happened.  First  of  all.  Bent  Arrow 
gambled  away  his  ow^n  horse,  and  then 
Big  Horn's  pony;  after  which  he  got  so 
very  drunk  that  when  another  man  be- 
gan to  fight  with  him  Bent  Arrow's 
arm  got  broken  and  several  of  his  ribs, 
too. 

You  would  have  been  amazed  at  what 
happened  then !  Instead  of  bathing  the 
wounds,  or  stopping  them  from  bleed- 
ing, or  setting  the  broken  bones,  one  of 
the  Indian  medicine-men  began  to  dance 
all  around  Bent  Arrow,  as  he  lay  help- 
less on  the  ground.  He  rattled  a  big 
medicine-rattle,  he  chanted  some  sing- 
song words,  he  drummed  on  a  big 
drum,  while  all  the  other  Indians  stood 
around  perfectly  satisfied  that  this  was 
the  only  way  to  make  Bent  Arrow  well 
again.  But  of  course  it  really  did  no 
good  at  all,  so  after  the  medicine-man 


The  Sun  of  Righteousness       355 

had  gone,  our  missionary  came  up  and 
washed  the  wounds,  and  even  tried  to 
set  the  broken  bones,  binding  them  up 
tightly,  as  lie  thought  they  ought  to 
grow.  He  gave  him  a  dose  of  medicine, 
too,  our  kind  of  medicine,  of  course. 

All  that  day  Bent  Arrow  lay  in  his 
tepee,  and  heard  our  missionary  tell- 
ing stories  of  Jesus  to  the  women  and 
children  who  listened  spell-bound.  In 
e^'ery  story  he  especially  showed  how 
Jesus  was  the  Light  of  the  World,  that 
the  sun  which  shone  on  the  world  every 
day  was  only  a  plaything  to  the  great 
Lord  Jesus  who  had  made  it. 

By  and  by,  of  course,  they  had  to  go 
home  to  their  old  tepee,  for  the  Sim 
Dance  was  over.  Bent  Arrow  and  Big 
Horn  had  to  ride  in  the  wagon  with  the 
rest  of  the  family,  because  the  horse  and 
the  pony  were  gone.  Our  missionary 
rode  all  the  w^ay  back  on  his  pony  with 
them,  trying  to  make  poor  Bent  Arrow 
as  comfortable  as  possible. 

Then  day  after  day  he  rode  over  to 
their  tepee  to  do  what  he  could  for  the 


356  Forty-sixth  Story 

broken  arm  and  ribs;  and  every  time 
he  went,  the  whole  family  would  beg 
him  for  another  story  about  Jesus,  the 
Light  of  the  World. 

They  began  to  go  to  our  church  and 
Sunday-school,  and  they  learned  to  sing 
our  h}Tims  and  learn  the  Bible  verses 
that  you  and  I  know.  But  one  day 
Smiling  Sunset  learned  a  new  verse, 
which  said:  ^'The  Sun  of  Righteousness 
has  arisen  with  healing  in  his  wings." 
She  could  not  understand  what  it  meant, 
so  when  she  got  home  she  asked  her 
father. 

He  was  standing  before  the  tepee  a 
long  time  looking  at  the  setting  sun, 
then  he  said:  ^'Once  I  worshiped  the 
sun  as  the  giver  of  life,  you  were  with 
me  when  I  danced  four  days  in  his 
honor.  But  every  night  the  sun  sets, 
and  I  have  to  walk  in  darkness  until 
it  rises  again  the  next  day.  But  on  the 
Jesus-Road,  Jesus  is  the  Sun,  He  is  the 
Light  of  the  World,  He  always  shines 
in  our  hearts,  and  there  is  no  night  an}^ 
more.     He  warms  us  when  our  hearts 


The  Sun  of  Righteousness       357 

are  cold,  He  calms  us  when  our  hearts 
are  frightened,  He  sho^YS  us  how  to 
walk — that  is  how  He  heals  us." 

I  don't  believe  anyone  could  give  a 
more  beautiful  description  of  what 
Jesus  meant  to  him  than  Bent  Arrow 
gave.  It  certainly  was  fine  that  our 
missionary  met  him,  don't  you  think 
so? 


FORTY-SEl^NTH  STORY 
Jesus  said:  "I  am  the  Light  of  the  World" 

HOW  THE  INDIANS  SAY 
THANK  YOU 


1.  How  do  they  dress  in  the  Indians'  Church?  Big 
Horn  on  one  side — on  the  other  Sweet  Birch? 

Ans 

2.  Tell  two  of  the  stories  these  new  Christians 
told,  showing  how  Jesus  warmed  hearts  that  were 
cold. 

Ans.  l.\ 

2'  .'..'.'......../.......... 

358 


FORTY-SE\^XTH  STORY 

^^HOW   THE   INDIANS   SAY 
^ THANK  YOU"' 

Thanksgiving  Day  is  the  day  of  all 
the  year,  when  we  like  to  gather  in  our 
churches,  to  remember  all  the  wonder- 
ful things  we  have  to  thank  God  for,  but 
I  wonder  if  you  ever  thought  that  every 
November  finds  some  new  members  in 
our  own  churches  around  the  world! 
These  new  members  are  so  happy  be- 
cause they  know  Jesus,  that  they  always 
feel  thankful  every  clay.  I  thought  to- 
day I  would  take  you  on  a  visit  to  an  In- 
dian church  that  we  built,  way  out  west 
in  a  State  called  Oklahoma. 

It  is  the  church  to  which  Smiling 
Sunset  and  Big  Horn  belong,  and  their 
mother  and  father,  too,  of  course.  The 
men  sit  on  one  side  of  the  church  and 
the  women  and  children  on  the  other. 
Big  Horn  felt  he  was  quite  grown-up 

359 


360  Forty-seventh  Story 

enough  to  sit  with  his  father  on  the 
men's  side.  Probably  you  never  saw 
such  a  congregation  in  your  life,  for  a 
great  many  of  the  women  wore  bright- 
colored  blankets  around  their  shoul- 
ders, and  some  of  the  men  did,  too.  One 
Indian,  named  Buffalo,  had  pink  yarn 
braided  in  his  hair,  wore  a  red  shirt,  a 
purple  handkerchief  around  his  neck, 
and  small  silver  chains  hung  from  his 
ears!  Several  papoose  cradles  were 
carried  right  into  church  on  the  moth- 
er's back,  and  the  babies  behaved 
rather  well,  they  looked  around  all  they 
wanted  to,  and  then  they  just  went  to 
sleep. 

I  thought  you  would  like  to  know 
what  kind  of  Christians  these  Indians 
made,  so  here  are  some  of  the  things 
they  said.  One  of  these  Indian  mem- 
bers of  our  church  was  asked  what 
Jesus  had  done  for  him.  As  an  answer, 
he  went  out-doors  and  got  some  dry 
leaves,  which  he  laid  in  a  circle.  Then 
he  placed  a  worm  in  the  center  and  set 
the   leaves   on   fire.     The   flames   kept 


How  Indians  Say  "  Thank  You ''     361 

burning  up  the  leaves  until  they  were 
nearly  ready  to  burn  up  the  worm,  then 
this  dear  old  Indian  Christian  reached 
in  and  lifted  the  worm  out  of  the  fire 
and  said :  ' '  That  is  the  w^ay  Jesus  saved 
me!" 

Then  another  fine-looking  Indian  got 
up  and  said :  ^^I  thought  I  knew  enough, 
that  no  one  could  tell  me  anything.  But 
then  the  white  brother  talked.  No  one 
hit  me,  or  hurt  me  in  any  way — but 
tears  ran  down  my  face  as  though  some- 
one had  struck  me.  It  was  the  white 
brother's  preaching  that  made  me  cry. 
I  walk  in  the  light  on  the  Jesus-Road 
now!'' 

Another  man  stood  up  and  told  how 
his  little  daughter  had  led  him  to  love 
Jesus.  Her  name  was  Sweet  Birch. 
This  is  the  way  he  told  the  story.  ' '  Lit- 
tle papoose  got  sick.  Little  papoose 
very  precious.  Medicine-man  come,  he 
dance,  he  rattle  his  rattle,  he  beat  his 
drum,  but  little  papoose  no  better. 
Sweet  Birch  come  home  from  Sunday- 
school.    Little   papoose   he   lie   in   my 


362  Forty-seventh  Story 

arms,  so  white  and  pale.  I  say  ^Little 
papoose  not  live  long  now.'  So  Sweet 
Birch  kneel  down  beside  me  and  say  to 
her  Friend  Jesus:  ^ Jesus,'  she  say  with 
her  eyes  shut,  *  little  papoose  brother 
coming  to  stay  with  you  to-night.  Please 
open  the  door  of  heaven  softly  and  let 
him  in.  Amen.'  Prayer  make  Jesus 
very  real  to  me.  He  has  little  papoose 
in  heaven  now.  So  I  walk  on  Jesus- 
Road  to  heaven.    So  very  happy." 

Then  another  Indian,  named  White 
Arm,  stood  up  and  said:  ^^The  Great 
God  knows  White  Arm — knows  he's 
bad — send  missionary  to  make  him 
good.  Now  White  Arm  know  the  Great 
God,  because  missionary  tell  him  about 
Jesus.  Jesus  loves  White  Arm,  and 
White  Arm  loves  Jesus.  Jesus  wants 
White  Arm  to  walk  in  the  Jesus-Road ; 
Jesus-Road  a  straight  road,  all  straight. 
White  Arm  walk  straight  all  the  day." 

Perhaps  I  have  told  3^ou  enough  of 
what  these  splendid  Indians  feel  about 
Jesus,  but  I  think  maybe  you  will  like 
this  last  one  best  of  all,  because  it  is 


How  Indians  Say  "  Thank  You  "    363 

a  really-truly  letter  from  a  really-truly 
Indian,  out  in  Oklahoma^  sent  to  thank 
you  and  me  for  his  ch.urch  out  there ;  he 
says :  ^ '  How  can  we  keep  with  Jesus  far 
away  here  in  the  mountains  if  Reformed 
Church  not  help  us  ?  We  are  like  hun- 
gry birds  in  the  nest  on  the  mountain 
side — we  die,  if  Reformed  Church  not 
feed  us.  We  are  like  sheep  way  oH  on 
the  mountains — we  cannot  find  our  way 
to  heavenl}^  home  if  Reformed  Church 
not  lead  us.  Our  hearts  send  you 
thanks.'' 

.  I  hope  on  Thanksgiving  Day  you  will 
remember  to  say  one  little  prayer  to  tell 
Jesus  how  thankful  you  are  that  our 
church  can  do  such  worth-while  things 
for  these  wonderful  Indians,  Indians 
who  are  not  walking  in  darkness  any 
longer,  but  in  the  Jesus-Road. 


FORTY-EIGHTH  STORY 

Jesus  is:  *'The  Prince  of  Peace** 

SOLDIERS   OF   PEACE 


1.  Can  you  tell  me  the  meaning  of  peace,  which 
surely  must  come  when  war  shall  cease? 

Ans 

2.  Which  is  the  hardest  thing  to  be  a  Soldier  of 
War,  or  a  mission-ar-y? 

Ans 

3.  Tell  me  in  words  the  difference  it  makes,  which 
kind  of  soldier  a  village  takes. 

Ans 

THe 
HEUWET 

OF 

4.  In  Ephesians  VI,  from  the  fourteenth  verse  on, 
find  name's  for  this  armour  Christ's  soldiers  should 
don. 

364 


FORTY-EIGHTH  STORY 

^^THE  SOLDIERS  OF  PEACE" 

Hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years  be- 
fore that  first  Christmas  Day,  when 
Jesus  was  born,  a  very  wise  man  was 
telling  what  Jesus  would  be  like,  and  he 
used  these  wonderful  words:  ^^The  peo- 
ple that  walked  in  darkness  have  seen 
a  great  light  .  .  .  For  unto  us  a  child 
is  born  .  .  .  and  the  government  shall 
be  upon  his  shoulders:  and  his  name 
shall  be  called  Wonderful,  Counsellor, 
The  Mighty  God,  The  Everlasting  Fa- 
ther, The  Prince  of  Peace,'' 

But  the  words  were  said  so  many, 
many  years  before  Jesus  was  born,  that 
you  might  almost  think  the  names  would 
all  have  been  forgotten,  wouldn't  you? 
Yet  on  that  silent  holy  night  when  a 
certain  little  baby  was  born  in  a  Beth- 
lehem stable,  there  were  shepherds  out 
on  the  hills  watching  their  flocks, 
365 


366  Forty-eighth  Story 

and  suddenly  there  was  a  great  white 
light  everywhere  as  Angel  voices  sang : 
*^  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on 
earth  Peace  among  men  of  good  will.'' 

So  the  little  Prince  of  Peace  was  born 
exactly  as  the  wise  man  had  said,  many 
years  before.  But  I  wonder  if  you 
know  what  the  word  Peace  means  '^  It 
means  when  people  can  live  together 
quietly  and  happily,  loving  each  other 
'as  well  as  they  love  themselves.  Jesus 
came  on  earth  to  be  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
to  rule  over  people  who  should  live  to- 
gether quietly  and  happily,  loving  each 
other  as  well  as  they  loved  themselves. 
Which  was  just  what  the  angels  had 
sung:  ^^ Peace  on  earth  among  men  of 
good  will.'' 

Jesus  knew  it  was  not  going  to  be 
easy  for  people  to  live  in  peace,  unless 
they  really  loved  Him.  For  He  knew 
there  were  people  who  did  not  live  to- 
gether quietly  and  happily,  who  did  not 
love  each  other  as  they  loved  themselves. 
He  knew  there  would  be  men  and 
women,  boys  and  girls,  CA^en  great  na- 


The  Soldiers  of  Peace         367 

tioiis,  too,  who  would  grab  what  did  not 
belong  to  them,  and  then  there  would 
be  quarreling,  fighting  and  hate.  That 
Is  what  war  is,  as  I  am  sure  you  know. 
So  when  He  sent  out  His  friends  to  go 
into  all  the  world  and  teach  the  nations 
about  Him,  He  knew  it  would  be  hard 
work  for  them,  and  that  they  would 
need  to  be  brave  strong  men.  He  knew 
that  Soldiers  of  War  have  to  be  brave 
men,  but  that  Soldiers  of  Peace  have 
to  be  even  braver  men. 

In  the  Bible  one  of  these  friends  of 
Jesus  has  written  a  letter  to  mission- 
aries telling  them  what  to  do,  this  is 
what  he  says:  ^'Endure  hardness  as  a 
good  Soldier  of  Jesus  Christ  .  .  . 
put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God  .  .  , 
have  the  Girdle  of  Truth  around  your 
waist;  have  the  Breastplate  of  Eight- 
eousness  .  .  .  Let  your  feet  be  cov- 
ered with  Shoes  of  Peace ;  carry  the 
Shield  of  Faith,  wear  the  Helmet  of 
Salvation,  and  use  only  the  Sword  of 
the  Spirit,  which  is  the  Bible.'' 

I  just  love  one  thing  about  all  this, 


368  Forty-eighth  Story 

God  gave  the  Christian  soldiers  some- 
thing to  cover  every  part  of  him,  in 
front:  to  go  on  his  head  the  Hehnet  of 
Saving  People,  to  cover  his  chest  the 
Breastplate  of  Doing  Right,  to  cover 
him  all  over  the  Shield  of  Trusting 
God,  for  his  feet  friendly  Shoes  of 
Peace,  in  his  hand  the  Sword  of  God's 
Word;  but — God  gave  this  Soldier  of 
Peace  nothing  at  all  to  cover  liis  hack! 
I  love  it — because  it  shows  that  the 
Prince  of  Peace  never  expects  any  sol- 
dier of  Hfs  to  become  a  coward,  or  run 
away.  It  is  never  to  be  '' Riglit  About 
Face!''  but  always:  ''Forward  March!'' 

Ever  since  the  days  when  Jesus  was 
here  among  men.  His  missionaries  have 
remembered  that  they  are  soldiers  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace,  and  have  gone  into 
all  the  world  trying  to  ^4ive  pure,  speak 
truth,  right  the  wrong,''  following  their 
Prince. 

Let  me  tell  you  something  about  how 
brave  the  missionary  soldiers  of  peace 
are,  and  how  much  harder  their  work 
is  than  the  work  of  soldiers  of  war. 


The  Soldiers  of  Peace         369 

To  begin  with,  soldiers  of  war  all  go 
out  to  fight  together;  they  form  a  big 
army ;  the  army  lives  together,  and  eats 
together,  and  sings  together,  and  fights 
together.  Every  day  their  captain  gives 
them  orders:  ^^Do  this!"  and  they  do  it. 
When  they  go  marching  from  one  place 
to  another,  there  is  a  cheerful  band  to 
play,  so  they  can  keep  step,  and  keep 
their  spirits  bright!  But  you  must 
have  already  seen  from  my  stories  all 
this  year,  that  missionary  soldiers  of 
peace  do  not  go  out  together  in  an 
army ;  sometimes  they  do  not  live  with 
other  missionary  soldiers,  at  all;  so 
there  is  no  one  to  talk  things  over  with ; 
no  band  to  play  to  cheer  them  up— no ! 
Scattered  here  and  there  over  the  world 
they  live,  hundreds  of  miles  apart  from 
each  other.  They  never  hear  the  cap- 
tain's real  voice  saying  ''Do  this!''  they 
simply  know  that  the  Prince  of  Peace 
expects  His  soldiers  to  spread  peace 
and  happiness,  and  love  all  over  the 
world,  and  day  by  day  they  have  to  de- 
cide all  by  themselves  how  best  to  do  it. 


370  Forty-eighth  Story 

The  captain  of  soldiers  of  war  says 
to  his  men  some  morning :  ^*  See  that  vil- 
lage over  there — we  must  take  it  to-day. 
Destroy  it,  men!  Don't  leave  one  stone 
standing!"  So  they  turn  their  guns 
and  their  cannons  on  it,  there  are  noises 
of  tremendous  explosions.  Some  of  the 
soldiers  get  killed,  but  by  night  the  lit- 
tle village  is  all  gone,  torn  up  by  can- 
non balls,  ruined  by  bombs,  each  little 
house  on  fire,  each  family  scattered, 
some  dead,  the  others  miserable,  hun- 
gry and  homeless.  Sometimes  it  takes 
no  more  than  a  day,  sometimes  it  takes 
days  and  weeks. 

Now  let  me  tell  you  about  the  mis- 
sionary soldier  of  peace.  He,  too,  sees 
a  village.  He  knows  without  being  told 
what  His  captain  wants  him  to  do  that 
day.  He,  too,  says : ' '  We  must  take  it. ' ' 
But  he  uses  no  gun,  he  has  no  cannon, 
he  throws  no  bomb.  He  quietly  walks 
into  the  dirty  shabby  little  village  and 
begins  to  talk  to  the  few  people  he 
meets.  Perhaps  what  he  says  makes 
them  angry,  so  they  rush  at  him  with 


'    The  Soldiers  of  Peace  371 

spears  and  stones  in  tlieir  hands,  de- 
termined to  kill  him.  But  he  never 
fights  back.  One  such  soldier  in  our 
very  own  church,  named  Mr.  Jacob 
Chamberlain,  said:  ^^ Before  you  kill 
me,  just  let  me  tell  you  a  story,"  and 
then  he  tells  them  about  Jesus,  His 
birth.  His  children,  His  wonderful  life, 
the  Home  above  which  He  is  making 
ready  for  all  who  love  Him.  When  he 
finishes  the  story  he  says:  ^^Now  you 
may  kill  me!"  but  no!  they  don't  want 
to  kill  him  now,  for  they  like  his  story, 
and  they  say:  ^'Stay  in  our  village,  and 
tell  us  more  about  this  man." 

So  he  stays  a  week,  a  month,  a  year, 
two  years,  and  oh,  what  changes  one 
can  begin  to  see !  Where  the  soldier  of 
war  must  leave  a  village  with  noth- 
ing but  burning  homes,  dead  people, 
orphaned  children,  and  misery,  the  mis- 
sionary soldier  of  peace  leaves  the 
dirty  village  cleaned  up,  the  homes 
neater  and  prettier,  the  savage  people 
gentler,  happier,  more  useful.  Little 
children  have  crowded  his  school,  his 


372  Forty-eighth  Story 

church  is  full  on  Sundays,  and  when  he 
leaves  to  take  his  next  village,  they 
weave  a  wreath  of  flowers  to  hang 
around  his  neck,  and  they  say  lovingly : 
^^Oh  what  would  we  be  if  you  had  not 
come !  We  are  so  happy  now,  you  have 
given  us  so  much,  may  God  bless  you, 
and  bring  you  back  to  us!" 

Now  tell  me:  whose  job  was  the 
bravest  ?  The  army  soldiers,  who  stood 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  and  destroyed  an 
unknown  village  with  cannons  and 
bombs,  from  a  distance  ?  Or  the  lonely 
missionary  soldier  who  walked  alone 
into  an  unknown  village  amid  dangers, 
and  spent  weeks  and  years  making  that 
village  a  place  that  the  Prince  of  Peace 
would  be  proud  to  see?  [Give  class  a 
chance  to  answer.] 


FORTY-NINTH  STORY 
Jesus  is:  "The  Prince  of  Peat©*' 

FROM   GREENLAND'S    ICY 
MOUNTAINS 


1.  We  always  think  of  Greenland  as  being  very 
green,  but  tell  me  what  the  Egedes  discovered  could 
be  seen? 


Arts. 


2.  What  kind  of  house  did  they  live  in  the  greasy 
Greenlanders  to  win? 


Ans. 


3.  What  wandered  in  their  door  one  day,  but  luck- 
ily was  scared  away? 


Ans. 


4.  What  changes  did  the  gospel  make  in  showing 
Greenland  her  mistake? 


Ans. 


373 


FORTY-NINTH  STORY 

^^FROM  GREENLAND'S  ICY 
MOUNTAINS'' 

All  this  year  I  have  been  telling  you 
stories  of  the  Soldiers  of  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  only  I  have  not  called  them  sol- 
diers, but  missionaries,  I  have  not  told 
you  so  very  much  about  their  bravery, 
either,  perhaps  because  I  wanted  to 
save  it  all  up  f  or ^  this  month,  so  you  can 
never  never  forget  that  missionary  sol- 
diers have  to  be  even  braver,  finer  and 
stronger  than  soldiers  of  war, — be- 
cause, for  one  thing,  they  have  to  fight 
alone,  not  in  an  army ;  and  for  another 
thing,  they  have  to  make  life  beautiful 
with  words  and  deeds  and  love  instead 
of  spoiling  it  with  swords  and  guns  and 
hate.  It's  lots  quicker  to  spoil  an  ugly 
thing,  than  it  is  to  make  it  beautiful. 

I  guess  we  all  love  heroes.    I  know  I 

374 


Greenland's  Icy  Mountains      375 

do.  I  love  to  hear  about  people  who  do 
hard  worth-while  things  that  no  one 
else  is  doing.  I  have  always  wanted  to 
be  like  that,  myself,  haA^en't  you'?  I 
love  to  pretend  all  sorts  of  dream  pic- 
tures, in  which  I  see  myself  doing  fine 
brave  things,  while  everybody  says: 
^^Oh  how  wonderful  you  are!"  But  do 
you  remember  my  dream-story  about 
the  Little  Girl  who  had  Missionary  Eyes 
and  Hands,  and  was  a  King's  Helper 
tvithoiit  knowing  it  at  allf  That's  the 
kind  of  a  hero  to  be — doing  things 
quietly  and  bravely,  without  any  fuss 
and  feathers,  or  brass  bands,  or  people 
watching  and  saying,  ^'Hurrah." 

The  world  is  full  of  heroes  like  that. 
I  have  told  you  about  them  this  year, 
every  Sunday.  I  think  all  our  very  own 
missionaries  in  China,  in  India,  in 
Arabia,  and  in  Japan  are  heroes.  And 
our  missionaries  right  here  in  America, 
in  cities,  and  valleys,  and  plains  are 
heroes,  too.  But  our  church  is  not  the 
only  church  that  has  heroes,  every 
church  has  them,  and  I  only  wish  I  had 


376  Forty-ninth  Story 

more  Sundays  in  the  year  to  tell  you, 
by  name,  about  some  of  the  others. 

Sometunes  in  church  we  sing  ^^Prom 
Greenland's  Icy  Mountains,  Prom  In- 
dia's coral  strand.  Where  Afric's  sunny 
fountains  roll  down  their  golden  sand, 
Prom  many  an  ancient  river.  Prom 
many  a  palmy  plain.  They  call  us  to 
deliver  Their  land  from  error's  chain." 
I've  told  you  about  India  and  about 
Africa,  about  palms  and  all  sorts  of 
errors,  but  I  haven't  told  you  about 
Greenland  yet,  which  is  a  very  interest- 
ing story. 

Por  once  over  in  Norway  there  was 
a  young  minister  who  had  a  hook  in  his 
library!  Just  a  quiet  little  book  that 
sat  demurely  on  his  bookshelf  and  never 
rustled  its  leaves,  nor  clapped  its  covers. 
It  couldn't,  of  course,  being  only  a 
book!  But  one  day  the  minister  took 
it  down  and  read  it,  and  the  book  woke 
him  all  up!  It  told  about  Green- 
land, what  a  wicked  heathenish  place 
it  was,  how  once  some  missionaries  had 
gone  there,  but  probably  they  had  been 


Greenland's  Icy  Mountains      377 

killed  and  for  hundreds  of  years  nobody 
knew  much  more  about  Greenland.  So 
this  young  minister  named  Hans  Egede 
decided  it  was  probably  his  job  to  go 
there.  Everybody  in  Norway  thought 
he  was  crazy.  Even  his  wife  thought 
so,  too,  at  first.  But  by  and  by  she 
read  the  book,  and  being  a  soldier^  she 
said  she  wanted  to  go,  too,  now! 

So  they  set  sail  in  the  most  uncom- 
fortable little  boat,  and  had  a  cold  hor- 
rid trip.  Then  they  got  to  Greenland, 
and  it  wasn't  green  land  at  all!  Even 
in  July!  There  were  no  trees,  no 
bushes,  not  even  a  blade  of  grass.  The 
people  were  greasy  savages,  smeared 
all  over  with  seal  oil,  which  smelled  hor- 
ribly, they  dressed  in  fur  skins,  and 
lived  in  queer  huts  like  giant  bee-hives, 
with  only  a  door,  no  windows  or  chim- 
ney. Big  families  of  grandmothers, 
grandfathers,  uncles,  aunts  and  cousins 
crowded  inside,  and  the  pigs  and  cows 
lived  with  them! 

The  only  thing  for  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Egede  to  do  was  to  live  in  one  of  those 


378  Forty-ninth  Story 

queer  Greenland  huts  themselves,  so 
they  could  learn  the  language  of  the 
people,  and  get  to  know  the  people,  too. 
They  were  not  at  all  friendly,  those 
Greenlanders !  They  couldn't  imagine 
why  these  strangers  should  come  and 
live  with  them,  and  once  when  the 
Egedes  almost  starved  to  death  for  lack 
of  food,  it  was  only  at  the  very  last  that 
the  savage  people  gave  them  some  of 
theirs.  It  was  the  hardest  kind  of  a 
winter — bitter  cold  in  that  bee-hive  hut. 
Once  a  hungry  polar  bear  walked  right 
into  the  hut,  and  he  really  could  easily 
have  killed  them  all,  but  Mr.  Egede  got 
him  out  by  a  miracle,  before  he  hurt 
anybody. 

But  things  never  stay  bad  all  the 
time,  you  know,  and  the  Greenlanders 
began  to  be  interested  in  the  things  Mr. 
Egede  had  to  tell  them  about  Jesus. 
Perhaps  they  were  interested  in  the 
drawings  Mr.  Egede 's  little  son  drew  to 
help  illustrate  his  father's  sermons! 
Anyhow,  one  by  one,  these  wild  greasy 
people  began  joining  the  church,  and 


Greenland's  Icy  Mountains      379 

Mr.  Egede  and  his  wife  forgot  how 
lonely  and  dangerous  their  lives  had 
been,  because  now  they  had  these  few 
friends.  Then  more  came,  then  more, 
until  to-day  Greenland  is  a  Christian 
country,  and  the  people  who  are  in  the 
churches  are  fine  people,  with  nice 
homes ;  so  I  think  a  thing  like  Mr.  Egede 
did  was  worth  while,  don't  you'? 


FIFTIETH   STORY 

Jesus  is:  *'Th©  Prince  of  Peace" 

DESERT  ISLANDS  AND  OTHER 
ISLANDS 


1.  What  kind  of  things  could  parrots  see  in  dread- 
ful far  away  Fiji? 

Ans 

2.  What  things   did  the  missionaries  do  to   make 
the  savages  over  anew? 

Ans 

3.  I  wonder  if  anybody  knows  who  made  the  Is- 
landers' first  clothes? 

Ans 

4.  Tell  what  they  did  with  the  cannibal  drums  on 
Sundays  when  everyone  churchward  comes? 

Ans 

380 


FIFTIETH  STORY 

^^DESERT  ISLANDS  AND  OTHER 
ISLANDS'^ 

Haven't  you  always  loved  stories 
about  desert  islands,  where  people  got 
shipwrecked,  and  where  dreadful  sav- 
ages suddenly  landed  and  made  life 
miserable  for  everybody  until  the  hero 
did  something  splendid,  so  everything 
could  end  all  right "?  How  we  shiver  and 
feel  cold  creeps  up  and  down  our  backs ! 
But  oh,  dear  me!  It  isn't  half  as  nice 
to  he  the  hero,  as  it  is  to  read  about  him. 
I'll  tell  you  to-day. 

The  oceans  are  dotted  all  over  with 
little  islands,  on  the  map  they  look  ex- 
actly like  freckles  all  over  the  face  of 
the  sea,  but  when  you  really  get  to  them, 
tiny  freckles  turn  out  to  be  pretty  big 
places  with  lots  of  people  living  on 
them.  I  suppose  there  is  a  thrilling 
story  about  every  island,  with  its  queei* 
381 


382  Fiftieth  Story 

name — the  Friendly  Islands,  the  So- 
ciety Islands,  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
Christmas  Islands,  the  Philippine  Is- 
lands, and  all  the  others.  They  sound  so 
interesting,  but  once  they  were  all  as 
savage  and  imsocial,  and  i^nf  riendly,and 
taichristmassy  as  anything  you  can  im- 
agine! I  don't  know  just  how  Fiji  Is- 
lands sound  to  you,  but  since  they  were 
once  exactly  like  all  the  others,  I  want  to 
tell  you  some  of  the  brave  things  our 
hero-missionaries  have  done  to  make  the 
islands  live  up  to  their  nice  new  names ! 

To  begin  with,  God  has  made  nothing 
lovelier  to  look  at  than  those  Fiji  Is- 
lands, with  the  turquoise  blue  of  calm 
seas  all  around  them,  and  snow-white 
beaches  covered  with  beautiful  pink 
and  blue  shells.  Majestic  palm  trees 
wave  in  the  air,  gay  red  and  yellow 
flowers  grow  everywhere,  bright  green 
parrots  fly  around. 

And  in  the  midst  of  all  this  calm 
sweet  beauty  lived  the  most  horrible 
people  you  ever  heard  of!  They  wore 
no  clothes,  they  lived  in  miserable  filthy 


Desert  and  Other  Islands        383 

huts,  they  never  spoke  the  truth,  they 
never  were  kind,  they  never  were  clean. 
They  were  cannibals  who  cruelly  went 
out  to  fight  and  actually  ate  up  all  their 
prisoners  of  war!  When  a  cannibal 
man  died,  his  wife  was  choked  to  deatli 
and  buried  with  him.  Little  children 
grew  up  wild,  killing  each  other,  steal- 
ing, lying,  trying  to  be  as  cruel  as  their 
cruel  parents.  I  just  can't  begin  to  tell 
you  the  fiendish  dreadful  things  these 
people  in  the  Fiji  Islands  did. 

Once  there  was  a  young  printer  in 
England  who  decided  God  needed  him 
to  do  something  harder  than  printing 
books  in  a  tame  printing  office,  so  he 
offered  himself  as  a  missionary  and  was 
sent  to  the  Fiji  Islands.  It  took  him 
three  months  to  get  there,  and  the  very 
first  thing  he  saw  were  the  bones  of 
eighty  prisoners  whom  the  cannibals 
had  just  finished  eating,  lying  on  the 
beautiful  sand  near  the  lovely  calm  sea. 
All  alone,  in  the  midst  of  such  dreadful 
savages,  he  buried  those  bones,  and  won- 
dered when  the  cannibals  might  decide 


384  Fiftieth  Story 

to  eat  him,  too.  I  almost  hate  to  tell 
you  these  things,  but  they  show  so 
plainly  how  brave  missionaries  are,  that 
I  think  you  won't  mind  hearing,  will 
you? 

He  did  not  understand  a  single  word 
the  islanders  said  to  each  other,  so  he 
would  listen,  then  write  down — listen, 
and  then  write  down — until  finally  he 
had  enough  words  so  he  could  begin 
talking  to  them.  But  they  did  not  seem 
to  care  a  rap  about  what  he  said,  they 
kept  on  eating  human  beings,  killing 
each  other,  and  lying.  He  translated 
the  Bible  into  their  language,  and  be- 
cause he  was  a  printer,  he  printed 
copies  of  it,  but  of  course  no  one  could 
read  yet,  so  he  started  a  school. 

The  King  of  the  island  was  named 
Thakombau,  and  one  day  Mr.  Calvert 
found  that  the  King's  daughter  was 
becoming  gentle  and  loving,  and  she 
showed  very  plainly  she  was  following 
Jesus.  That  was  a  wonderful  help  to 
Mr.  Calvert,  the  missionary,  because 
she  would  beg  her  father  not  to  let  his 


Desert  and  Other  Islands        385 

subjects  do  this  or  that,  and  it  had 
great  influence  on  the  savages.  I  have 
already  told  you  how  a  man's  wife  was 
strangled  to  death,  when  he  died.  Well, 
it  made  Mr.  Calvert  sick  to  see  it,  so 
he  went  to  Thakombau,  the  King  of  the 
island,  and  in  true  Fiji-fashion,  he  of- 
fered to  have  one  of  his  own  fingers 
cut  off,  if  only  the  King  would  forbid 
the  dreadful  custom.  Just  this  offer 
showed  the  cannibals  what  sort  of  stuff 
a  missionary  is  made  of ! 

By  and  by  other  missionaries  came 
with  their  wives.  It  must  have  been 
rather  dreadful  for  these  nice  women 
from  civilized  countries  to  see  so  many 
shocking  and  cruel  things  done  right 
before  their  eyes ;  I  suppose  their  blood 
ran  cold  many  a  time,  but  they  never 
showed  it — they  were  every  bit  as  good 
heroes  as  their  husbands!  They  went 
right  into  the  miserable  huts  and  talked 
to  the  wild  cruel  mothers,  they  helped 
them  make  their  homes  nicer,  and  when 
they  were  sick  they  nursed  them,  they 
had  schools  for  the  little  children,  and 


386  Fiftieth  Story    ' 

sewing  meetings  for  the  mothers  who 
wore  no  clothes! 

One  glorious  Sunday,  years  later, 
eighteen  hundred  persons  on  that  is- 
land gave  up  their  heathenism  and  ac- 
cepted Jesus.  But  I  think  one  of  the 
nicest  parts  of  the  story  is,  that  all 
those  eighteen  hundred  persons  were  no 
longer  naked  savages,  but  were  dressed 
in  neat,  decent  clothes,  every  single  one 
of  which  was  cut  out  and  prepared  un- 
der the  direction  of  the  missionary's 
nice  little  wife!  Eighteen  hundred  is 
a  great  many  people,  too!  When  you 
get  home,  just  try  counting  up  to  one 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  you'll  find 
it  takes  a  good  long  while  to  even  count 
that  number. 

Finally  even  the  King  of  the  Can- 
nibal Islands  became  a  Christian,  and 
he  ordered  that  what  had  been  the  old 
^^death-drums,"  beaten  when  the  can- 
nibals were  about  to  eat  human  beings, 
should  be  used  after  that  in  calling  the 
islanders  together  to  worship  Jesus,  the 
Prince  of  Peace.    Then  there  began  to 


Desert  and  Other  Islands        387 

be  happiness  in  those  islands.  Of 
course,  everybody  isn  't  a  Christian  yet, 
but  once  when  Mr.  Calvert  returned 
from  a  visit  to  England,  he  found  over 
1,300  churches  on  the  Fiji  Islands,  10 
white  missionaries,  65  native  ones,  1,000 
head  teachers,  30,000  church  members 
and  105,000  church  attendants. 

This  just  shows  what  a  few  brave 
missionary  soldiers  of  peace  can  do, 
doesn't  it? 


FIFTY-FIRST  STORY 

Jesus  is:  **The  Prince  of  Peace" 

1. 
Who 
was  the 
first  Christ- 
mas   Present? 


2.  Although    everybody 
had  been  expecting  a  Pres- 
ent, what  did  they  think  was 
the  matter  with  this  one?.... 


3.  Who  have  kept  telling  about  this 

first   Present  ? 

4.  Who  is  going  to  help  them  keep  on  tell- 
ing all  this  year,  so  next  Christmas  more 
people  everywhere  will  know  the  story?.... 


GOD 

SO 

LOVED 

THE 

WORLD 

THAT 

HE 
GAVE 

THE  FIRST  CHRISTMAS 
PRESENT 


388 


FIFTY-FIRST  STORY 

^^THE    FIRST    CHRISTMAS 
PRESENT'' 

Once  upon  a  time  the  King  of  the 
World  gave  His  people  their  very  first 
Christmas  Present.  For  years  and  years 
they  had  known  that  some  day  He  was 
going  to  give  them  such  a  Present,  only 
they  fully  expected  to  find  it  wrapped  in 
royal  purple,  lying  in  a  golden  cradle, 
in  a  marble  palace. 

So  when  they  came  to  look  at  their 
first  Christmas  Present,  and  found  It 
was  only  wrapped  in  calico  swaddling 
clothes,  and  was  lying  on  straw  in  a 
stable  manger,  some  of  them  said: 
*^Why,  this  can't  be  the  Christmas 
Present  the  King  of  the  World  prom- 
ised! Surely  such  a  great  all-powerful 
King  would  send  a  rich  precious  Pres- 
ent, not  something  as  poor  and  simple 
as  this ! ' '  And  they  actually  went  away 
389 


390  Fifty-first  Story 

rather  disgusted  at  having  taken  all 
their  trouble  for  nothing. 

But  a  few  lonely  old  shepherds,  from 
out  on  the  hills,  saw  the  Christmas 
Present,  and  it  seemed  all  right  to  them, 
so  they  knelt  down  and  worshipped 
gladly.  Later  on,  some  very  wise  men 
from  a  far-away  land  traveled  on  camels 
over  miles  and  miles  of  desert  to  see 
the  Present,  and  they,  too,  fell  down  and 
worshipped;  they  laid  wonderful  gifts 
among  the  hay  and  straw,  too.  But  that 
was  nearly  all  that  happened  just  then. 
There  was  some  stir — and  then  a  great 
many  quiet  years  slipped  by. 

Then  at  the  end  of  thirty  years,  this 
first  Christmas  Present  had  had  time  to 
grow  up.  He  told  a  few  friends  that 
He  really  was  the  Christmas  Present 
everyone  had  been  expecting  years  be- 
fore. So  they  couldn't  help  but  believe 
Him,  because  they  loved  Him,  although 
I  expect  they  wondered  and  wondered 
why  He  seemed  so  poor — no  home  of 
His  own  where  He  could  lie  down  to 
sleep  at  night,  no  money  to  spend  on 


The  First  Christmas  Present     391 

fine  clothes  or  good  things  to  eat.  They 
saw  Him  just  as  contented  in  poor 
men's  huts  as  in  rich  men's  palaces. 
It  was  certainly  strange,  especially  as 
quite  often  in  talking  to  people,  here 
and  there.  He  would  say:  *^I  really  am 
the  one  you  are  expecting."  But  most 
of  these  people  just  laughed.  They  still 
felt  that  the  King  of  the  World,  who 
had  all  power  and  all  wealth,  could 
easily  have  prepared  a  fine  palace 
full  of  bowing  servants  and  marvelous 
feasts  for  such  an  important  person  as 
this  Christmas  Present  to  live  in. 

Ever}^vhere  He  went  people  were 
divided  in  what  they  thought  about 
Him.  Some  people  said:  ^'Well,  all  I 
know  is.  He  has  been  kindness  itself  to 
me.  Once  I  was  blind,  but  now  1  can 
see,  because  He  touched  my  eyes,  and 
healed  me.  A  neighbor  of  mine  was 
lame,  and  now  he  can  walk.  Our  chil- 
dren just  love  Him,  and  He  loves  them. 
They  climb  all  over  his  knees.  He 
seems  absolutely  beautiful  to  us." 

But  the  other  people  got  mad  to  hear 


392  Fifty-first  Story 

such  praise,  and  they  began  to  throw 
stones  at  Him,  hoping  to  kill  Him. 
Then  His  friends  said:  *^ Isn't  there 
something  we  can  do  to  make  things 
safer  for  You?'' 

^^You  mustn't  worry  about  Me,"  He; 
said,  ^*if  I  wanted  to  ask  Him,  the  King 
of  the  World  would  send  me  twelve 
legions  of  soldier-angels  to  kill  all  these 
enemies  of  Mine.  But  I  was  not  sent 
into  the  world  to  hurt  people,  but  to 
save  them." 

That  was  the  way  He  taught  them  He 
was  the  Prince  of  Peace.  But  always 
when  people  said:  ^^Are  you  really  the 
Christmas  Present  sent  from  the  King 
of  the  World?"  He  would  say  that  He 
was.  So  some  of  His  enemies  made 
Hun  a  prisoner,  and  they  gave  money 
to  wicked  men  to  lie,  saying  He  had 
done  things  He  really  never  had  done. 
So  when  He  was  called  guilty,  they 
hung  Him  on  a  tree,  and  He  died. 
Then  even  His  dearest  friends  said: 
^^We  had  hoped  it  would  be  as  He  said, 
— that  He  really  was  the   Christmas 


The  First  Christmas  Present     393 

Present!  But,  of  course,  He  could  not 
have  been,  for  the  King  of  the  World 
would  never  have  let  such  a  precious 
person  die!'' 

But  then  came  the  very  first  Easter 
Day,  when  early  in  the  morning  one  of 
His  friends  met  the  Prince  of  Peace 
walking  in  a  garden;  she  ran  to  tell 
everyone  the  glorious  news:  ^'He  has 
risen!  He  is  not  dead — He  is  alive,  I 
have  seen  Him!''  Over  and  over  they 
told  the  glad  news  to  each  other,  then 
they  had  supper  with  Him,  and  they  no 
longer  doubted  that  since  death  could 
not  hurt  Him,  He  was  indeed  the  real 
Christmas  Present  the  King  of  the 
World  had  promised  to  them  long  ago. 

One  day  He  said  to  them:  ^^I  am  soon 
going  away,  and  there  are  two  things 
I  want  you  to  do  for  me:  Go  into  all 
the  King's  World,  and  Teach  everybody 
about  the  King's  wonderful  Christmas 
Present  to  them.  You  will  have  to 
travel  alone,  and  it  will  be  dangerous. 
Men  will  treat  you  as  they  have  treated 
Me.    They  will  kill  you,  as  they  killed 


394  Fifty-first  Story 

Me.  They  may  not  always  believe  you, 
but  I  don't  want  you  ever  to  be  dis- 
couraged, for  I  will  be  with  you  every 
single  minute  of  every  single  day.  You 
won't  be  able  to  see  me,  but  I  shall  un- 
derstand all  the  things  you  do." 

So  He  left  them ;  and  ever  since  that 
day  His  friends  have  been  traveling  into 
His  world, — ^here,  there,  everywhere, 
telling  about  the  Christmas  Present 
whom  the  King  of  the  World  has  sent 
them.  Although  their  work  is  not  nearly 
finished,  yet  on  Christmas  morning  of 
this  week,  millions  and  millions  of 
happy  people  all  around  the  world  will 
be  saying  to  each  other:  ^^ Christ  is 
born!  Merry  Christmas!'' 

But  what  would  have  happened  if 
not  a  single  person  had  ever  told  the 
story  of  the  Christmas  Present  to  any- 
one else?  Suppose  no  one  had  been 
brave  enough  to  dare  cross  oceans  and 
venture  in  unknown  places?  Suppose 
no  one  had  ever  taken  the  trouble  to 
translate  the  Bible  into  a  language  peo- 
ple could  read? 


The  First  Christmas  Present     395 

Then  you  and  I  could  never,  never, 
NEVER  have  had  a  Christmas  Day,  be- 
cause we  would  never  have  been  able 
to  read  about  the  Christmas  Present, 
in  these  well-known  words:  ^^God  so 
loved  the  world  that  He  gave — His 
Son/' 

I  just  love  it,  don't  you"?  I  just  love 
to  know  that  every  single  missionary 
who  has  ever  told  anybody  about  Jesus, 
has  given  them  a  Christmas  Day.  I 
love  to  know  that  you  and  I  have  helped 
make  this  Christmas  merrier  yet,  be- 
cause we  have  given  money  to  tell  some 
little  unknown  children  in  China  and 
Japan  and  India  and  here  at  home 
about  Jesus.  We  can't  stop  telling, 
now,  can  we  '^  We  love  it  too  much,  we 
plan  for  it  too  far  ahead.  But  there 
will  be  millions  and  millions  of  homes 
where  the  twenty-fifth  of  December 
will  seem  just  exactly  like  the  twenty- 
fourth  and  the  twenty-sixth.  We  can't 
have  quite  such  a  good  time  on  Christ- 
mas Day  this  year,  I  think,  unless  we 
plan  ahead  for  next  year  when  more. 


396  Fifty-first  Story 

oh,  ever  so  many  more,  children  shall 
know  about  Jesus,  because  we  helped. 
We  can  help  do  what  God  did:  we  can 
so  love  the  world  that  we  give  a  Christ- 
mas Present,  too.    Let's  do  it,  shall  we ? 


FIFTY-SECOND   STORY 
Jesus  is:  "The  Prince  of  Peace" 


T  H  ^- 

^/   1.  What  is  the  greatest  thing  \^* 

^/                that  you  know  \v 

^1               That    can    make    a    friend  \y 

even  out  of  a  foe?  \^ 

Ans \  j^ 

2.  Tell   in   a    few   words   about   the   two 
women  in  Tibet. 

^' 

,*^ 

ATI 


397 


FIFTY-SECOND  STORY 

*^THE  GREATEST  THING  IN 
THE  WORLD'' 

Here  is  a  fairy-story  that  somebody 
whispered  to  me :  Once  there  was  a  little 
Bar  of  Iron.  It  was  so  awfully  hard 
that  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  could  ever 
make  it  soft.  The  Hammer  was  per- 
fectly sure  he  could  do  it.  So  bang! 
bang!  he  went,  but  his  head  flew  off  at 
the  second  knock, — and  the  Iron  was  as 
hard  as  ever!  Then  the  Saw  took  a 
turn.  ^ '  You  just  watch  me ! "  he  boasted. 
So  he  sawed  and  sawed  and  he  sawed. 
But  he  only  spoiled  his  nice  sharp  teeth, 
— and  the  Iron  was  as  hard  as  ever! 
Then  up  spoke  a  tiny  Flame  of  Eire. 
^^ Couldn't  I  try?"  it  asked  modestly. 
Then  it  gently  and  lovingly  put  its  hot 
little  arms  around  the  stiff  Iron  Bar, 
and  it  really  wasn't  long  before  the  hard 
398 


Greatest  Thing  in  the  World     399 

Iron  was  so  soft  you  could  do  whatever 
you  liked  with  it. 

Heathen  people  all  over  God's  world 
are  just  like  that.  Their  hearts  are 
hard  and  cold,  like  iron,  and  their  ugly 
idols  and  cruel  religions  only  make  them 
harder  than  ever.  But  when  our  mis- 
sionaries tell  them  about  Jesus,  it  does 
beautiful  things  to  their  hard  fright- 
ened hearts.  It  seems  a  little  strange 
that  something,  like  love,  which  you 
can't  really  see^  is  so  powerful,  doesn't 
it  ?  What  battleships,  and  submarines, 
and  guns,  and  cannons,  and  big  armies, 
can't  do  at  all,  love  can  do!  Here  is 
a  story  to  prove  it. 

The  very  highest  mountains  in  the 
whole  world  are  found  in  a  country 
called  Tibet.  People  call  it  the  '^roof 
of  the  world,"  because  it  is  so  high  up 
among  the  clouds.  The  people  who  live 
way  up  there  are  so  wild  and  fierce  they 
will  not  let  any  foreigners  at  all  inside 
their  villages.  They  kill  them  in  the 
most  cruel  way,  so  almost  everybody 
leaves  them  alone.    Merchants  say  it  is 


400  Fifty-second  Story 

not  worth  while  to  try  to  sell  them  any- 
thing, and  brave  soldiers  say  it  is  pretty 
risky  business  to  go  into  Tibet.  But 
once  there  were  two  Somebodies  who 
decided  in  spite  of  all  the  dangers  they 
would  get  in.  These  two  Somebodies 
wore  skirts;  and  hat-pins  in  their  hats, 
but  in  spite  of  being  women,  they  were 
brave  soldiers  of  peace.  One  of  them 
was  a  doctor,  the  other  a  missionary. 

Just  getting  to  Tibet  was  hard 
enough!  up  and  up  they  climbed,  with 
gigantic  mountains  rising  before  them, 
and  gigantic  precipices  yawning  at  their 
feet.  Sometimes  they  had  to  cross  wild 
mountain  torrents  with  only  a  swaying 
log  to  walk  over  on;  they  spent  their 
nights  out  under  God's  stars,  in  the  bit- 
ter cold,  not  knowing  what  wild  animals 
might  attack  them.  Up  and  up  they 
climbed,  until  one  day  they  reached  the 
top  of  a  pass,  and  saw  a  shrine  to  the 
demon  of  the  mountain.  Then  up  on 
this  '^roof  of  the  world''  the  brave  lit- 
tle doctor  called  out:  ^'Yesa  Misah 
Ki  Gai!''  which  means,  ^^  Victory  for 


Greatest  Thing  in  the  World     401 

Jesus!''  Don't  you  love  it  1  Think  of 
it,  two  lonely  women  up  on  top  of  a 
mountain,  sure  that  Jesus  would  win ! 

They  knew  they  were  near  a  village, 
so  they  dressed  themselves  up  as  natives 
and  crept  in,  hoping  to  find  some 
one  willing  to  teach  them  the  strange 
Tibetan  language.  But  the  villagers 
soon  discovered  that  they  were  women 
dressed  up  to  look  like  Tibetans,  and 
they  drove  them  out  with  stones.  A 
fierce  cruel  Tibetan  officer  was  sent  to 
follow  them  day  and  night,  watching  to 
see  that  they  did  not  try  to  come  back, 
threatening  to  kill  them  if  they  did. 
Wouldn't  you  have  felt  a  wee  bit  dis- 
couraged? And  just  the  least  mite 
afraid?  Ugh!  Followed  by  a  wild- 
looking  creature  carrying  a  great  sharp 
sword  ? 

But  one  day  on  a  very  dangerous 
trail,  he  stumbled  and  fell  down  a  steep 
precipice.  Perhaps  you  think  it  was  a 
wonderful  chance  for  the  missionaries 
to  run  away,  but  they  saw  it  might 
possibly  be  their  more  wonderful  chance 


402  Fifty-second  Story 

to  stay!  They  tied  together  pieces  of 
rope,  leather  straps,  blankets,  petti- 
coats, skirts,  coats,  anything  and  every- 
thing to  make  a  rope  long  enough  to 
reach  him.  Then  they  tied  it  around 
a  tree  trunk,  and  let  it  dangle  down 
that  dreadful  precipice  to  the  narrow 
ledge  of  rock  where  he  had  fallen.  It 
was  just  long  enough  for  him  to  reach, 
so  he  began  pulling  himself  up.  But 
he  had  hurt  one  arm  so  badly  that  he 
simply  could  not  use  it  without  turning 
faint  and  sick.  When  he  was  almost 
losing  hope  of  reaching  the  top,  he 
heard  a  kind  voice  above  him  calling: 
^^It  isn't  so  far  now!  Don't  look  down, 
look  up!  Climb  on — just  pull  a  little 
longer  and  you'll  be  there!" 

I  can't  tell  you  exactly  what  he  must 
have  felt  then  to  know  that  these  two 
women  were  actually  saving  him,  when 
he  had  been  on  the  point  of  killing  them 
a  hundred  times  the  last  few  days. 

^^Pull  a  little  longer!"  they  called. 
^^Don't  give  up  now,  you're  almost  up!" 
So  he  pulled,  and  climbed;  and  just  as 


Greatest  Thing  in  the  World     403 

he  got  up  and  over  the  edge  he  heard 
one  of  them  cry:  ''Oh  thank  God! 
Thank  God !  We  Ve  saved  him ! ' '  Then 
he  fainted. 

The  doctor  missionary  found  that  his 
left  arm  was  broken,  so  she  set  it  for 
him  and  bandaged  it  into  a  sling.  There 
were  great  bleeding  gashes  on  his  face, 
and  he  woke  up  to  find  her  gently  bath- 
ing them,  and  covering  them  with  soft 
cotton  and  a  sweet-smelling  ointment. 
I  wish  I  knew  what  he  thought  then, 
don't  you?  At  night  he  heard  them 
pray  just  as  they  had  prayed  other 
evenings,  only  this  time,  they  added: 
''Help  us  to  do  with  this  man  as  Thou 
would 'st  have  us  do.  Amen." 

It  is  no  wonder  he  softened.  He  was 
like  the  Bar  of  Iron,  wasn't  he?  He 
had  never  known  such  warmth  before, 
so  when  they  got  out  little  notebooks, 
he  gladly  told  them  all  the  Tibetan 
words  they  wanted  to  know.  They  told 
him  about  Jesus,  and  he  said:  "It 
sounds  good.  But  can  He  be  as  won- 
derful and  brave  as  you?" 


404  Fifty-second  Story 

Then  they  hurried  to  say:  *^0h,  we 
are  not  brave,  at  all!  You  must  not 
judge  Him  by  us!  For  Jesus  is  the 
chiefest  among  ten  thousand,  the  One 
altogether  lovely." 

^^Then  I  worship  Him!"  he  said,  fall- 
ing on  his  knees  as  he  said  for  the  first 
time:  ^^Jesu  Ma'shika/'  which  means 
Jesus  Christ. 

So  love  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the 
world,  isn't  it?  Not  a  foolish  silly 
thing,  but  a  strong  brave  hard  thing  to 
love  as  those  two  lovely  women  loved 
Jesus.  When  the  Tibetan  officer  got 
back  to  his  village,  he  told  his  experi- 
ence to  the  fierce  warriors,  and  they 
could  hardly  believe  it.  But  the  next 
year,  when  the  two  dauntless  women 
climbed  up  that  steep  mountain  again, 
they  were  admitted  to  the  village  gladly 
and  allowed  to  teach  about  this  new  God 
who  makes  women  brave  and  fearless. 

All  over  the  world  they  are  doing  it, — 
these  brave  soldiers  of  peace, — fighting 
such  peaceable  battles  of  love  and  help- 


Greatest  Thing  in  the  World     405 

fulness  that  the  victories  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace  are  greater  than  anybody  can 
know  until  that  glorious  day  when  we 
shall  see  all  that  wonderful  host  of  black 
men  and  white  men,  brown  men  and 
yellow  men,  kneeling  in  white,  before 
the  throne  of  Jesus,  singing:  '^Bless- 
ing and  honor  and  glory  and  power  be 
unto  Him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne 
forever  and  ever." 

And  if  you  should  say:  ''Why  who 
are  those  m  white  robes  kneeling  be- 
fore the  throne'?  Where  do  they  all 
come  from?''  Then  an  angel  would  tell 
you:  ''These  are  they  who  have  come 
from  all  nations,  they  had  trouble  on 
earth,  but  they  followed  Jesus,  and  now 
they  shall  never  hunger  any  more,  nor 
thirst  any  more,  nor  have  any  more 
pain,  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears 
from  their  eyes." 

Then  you  will  say  to  me:  "Oh,  isn't 
that  perfectly  lovely?  I'm  so  glad  for 
them,  for  I  remember  how  you  used  to 
tell  us  in  Sunday-school  how  unhappy 


4o6  Fifty-second  Story 

they  often  were — sick  and  afraid  of 
something  all  the  time/' 

Then  won't  it  be  the  best  part  of  all, 
when  Jesus  says  to  you  and  me:  ^'You 
helped  me,  too!    I  thank  you!"     - 


Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Libraries 


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